All the weather stations reported the big nor'easter that came up the coast last weekend, so I'm sure you heard about it. We got a little snow and wind, but the main storm missed us. Can't complain. However, even a little snow can change the landscape, as well as one's outlook, and we enjoyed our time outside shoveling and bantering with neighbors. Seems our neighbors become extra neighborly when it comes to snow. One guy got a new snowblower, so he took care of a lot of us. Wonderful! And the wind left this portrait in our yard:
I love this beautiful snow poem by Longfellow:
Snow-Flakes
Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression, Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels. This is the poem of the air, Slowly in silent syllables recorded; This is the secret of despair, Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded, Now whispered and revealed To wood and field.
Of course I can't compete with Longfellow, but his poem connects snow with grief. On a lighter note, this photo of my grandson begged for a poem...
In cold wet snow
My dad and I
Rolled and packed
This little snow guy
Stuck eyes and arms
And stump nose in
His Christmas tree hair
Still makes me grin
© Karen Eastlund
Wherever you are, in snow or not, I wish you a week full of grins.
Image by Linda Mitchell
As usual, it's Poetry Friday. Thanks to Elisabeth for hosting, join the gathering here.
