I can guarantee it is snowing. These fragile blossoms that bobbed gently in the winds, today bravely hold snow. Winter and Spring continue to battle, and Spring’s weekend victory has been usurped by a wintry blast.

But, perhaps the best balm is a bit of poetry:

Spring Snow

By Richard Greene

Wet snow coats
twig, branch and bud.
Against the still black street
the waning season
limns its last words
in bold calligraphy.

Today I am profoundly thankful for hot coffee, wooly sweaters, and no pressing need to leave the house.

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