As dawn blushes on the new day, I gaze out.  Snow cuddles the world close to its breast. 

A foot and a half of snow.  It sneaked upon us, when the world slept.  On cold, small feet it crept into our fields and climbed the roofs of our houses.  With whispers, it shushed the birds and sang the small creatures to sleep.  

Held at bay in my own home, I concede victory to Snow.  I will do as she insists.  A warm cup of tea, a pen and pad of paper, I write.  When the lights flicker under Snow's mischievous fingers, I write. 

How kind of Snow to give me time to pause, to think, to write.