I was all white and calm. High piles of snow against the walls. Snug little house. Cozy fire. Writing. Daydreaming. And then, drip, drop, drip, drop, drip, drop. A thaw. Warm sunlight. Grass showing up. Smells of wet earth. It can’t be spring already? And puddles turned into ice. The wind picked up, blew the snow back upon the grass. Not yet, not yet. Let us savor the winter mood a little while longer. I can take some more snow.