There was a spit
of freezing rain and snow here yesterday, nothing that stayed. The real ugliness is farther to the south. It's about twenty degrees today, a dull light, a winter-grey sky. A winter-lonesome cast over things. An ache throbbing in the bare land, like heart-ache. The tremors of love are the slow hills we live with, easy rolling endless prairie.
The merest dusting of snow on the roof of the car. A bite to the morning.
A wind from the north is lazing in the cemetery. Who is going to complain?
A mile and a half south of Five Corners, there's a snowy owl on a power pole, bright against the grey sky. A white loveliness against the dullness of this winter landscape. The suddenness of beauty wandering amongst the ordinary days.
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