Wonder

We have been either enjoying or suffering through (depending on your point of view) a snowstorm for the last day or so. February is preparing to leave us, winter has but three weeks left...and suddenly realized it forgot to give us snow. So it's making up for it, to the absolute delight of many of us and the chagrin of others. (Does it mean you're officially old when you hate snow?? Sorry, Jerome...)

My favourite kind of snow is exactly what we've been getting: wet and sticky. I do wish I knew even a few of all the Inuit names for different kinds of snow. The winter artist delicately traced every deciduous branch on every single tree in white, then decided to make it bolder and so thickened the lines. The result was a wonderland that only invites cliches, so I won't bother. Overnight, I see, the artist decided it was too much like a Christmas card, shook everything off the branches and, as I write, is trying again. How splendid to be able to play with the whole world as your canvas. And how wonder-full the result.