Snow
Dusting the deck as we finish dinner
Steak au poive under candle light
All that remain is my sweetie and me
Our four leggeds
The silly little coyote that refuses to run away
And snow
Illuminated by swelling moon
Diffused by slender clouds
Soft grayish whitish powder silky sprinkle
Clouds softer and lighter than those of summer
Without the depth and weight and drama of rain
Carried within them like a swollen mothers breast
But holding instead the sparkle and light and crystal air of
Snow
A silent promise
Little more than a whisper
That holds all the mystery of today tomorrow yesterday
Ten degrees to start to-day
The height of afternoon remained right at freezing
Ice begins to form upon the mighty Rio
Slowing her flow thick like ink of
Black pens I use to scratch out a poem in my weathered journal
There on the river in the dark of the trees still holding needles
Ice spans from bank to bank
Fragile as the thin shell of an egg
Only looming growing expanding each day
No longer chased away by mid day warmth
Portending as the melodious clouds above
Frozen ground hard beneath my boots
Steel on the horses hooves pound like thunder
As they run to me
Hungry
Frost beneath the blue spruce on the north slope
Growing like mold on moist bread
The loaf that will be left out all winter to flourish
She settles, the season, slowly oozing into to her ice age
Of hoar frost and solid creeks
And still silent white wintriness
And taking me with her into her ashen solace
But here I will not remain
When even here is not far enough away
So for the friends and family and those who read this who know and care, this weekend I head up to British Columbia to visit Forrest.
And this winter, well this winter…
I am here, now, and tell you only of that for now, for here is where I am.
For now.
And tomorrow, well…
Adalante!
Gin Getz 
Lovely! :-)
Thank you, Ann…
British Columbia!
Well, if you are coming as far west as the Okanagan, I hope you’ll stop by in Vernon. We don’t have any ice as impressive looking as yours yet.
Safe travels
Harold
Okanagan? We spent last winter outside of Winthrop, WA, pretty close… Forrest, our son, is in college in Squamish, BC (Quest University Canada). I’m flying into Vancouver and driving up. Packing my slicker and felt hat and ready for a very wet weekend, and looking forward to it no matter what. Here in Colorado, Harold, we’re at almost 10,000 feet elevation. So although we are far south, we sure get the cold, and long winters. I love them, but this year will be a little different… (I’ll explain soon) You might not have the ice yet, but I know it’s coming!
…from hurricane gusts in Florida to snow at 10,000 feet. Enjoy you visit with your son!
You be safe, Sherie…
Please give a hug to Forrest from me:)
I will!
These are lovely freezing golden words. You share your surroundings with such beauty. And the photos. Stark.
Sounds like a good time .A meal with your sweety and looking foward to a visit with Forrest .Add a little snow and life is good .
Oh, Gin. Thank God you write! I’m choked with memory.
The kindest of words from one very wise woman… Thank you, Amy…