The snow was lovely, but getting around was treacherous and I love watching the frenzied activities of birds on a snowy day. Here the trusty forsythia bush provides approriate cover for at least 10 sparrows, perhaps more; they are hard to see when you stop the action.
And here Mr. Cardinal provides that bright flash of color on a snowy day, his red feathers evenly lit by reflection from the snow.
And what is this–melting ice cream on a sundae?! No it’s my neighbor’s hedges covered with snow, the lights beneath providing a dramatic lighting effect.
And you can picture this–while waiting for it to snow last night I kept checking out every window until I thought I saw the very first flake:
Snow at Night
I check under the streetlight whenever I pass the window,
the still night scene like a Hopper painting, tranquil and perfect,
or the set on a stage, ready for the players, the houselights dim.
I anticipate the first action of the play,
and I grow impatient—
the stillness, the leaden sky as the afternoon aged
weighted with promise,
the early darkness,
then suddenly a bit of movement under the arc of the streetlight,
I hold my breath and still myself—was that it?
then a pause, then again, at an angle, a bit of ash gently drifting,
and another, then two at once,
then too many to count, meandering,
all in the same direction,
appear in the streetlight’s cone of illumination, then disappear.
I am transfixed
as the flakes simply continue as if without agenda,
my neighbors’ windows are all covered,
lights and flickering TVs behind curtains and blinds,
I am the only one who has witnessed the beginning.