“In February
winter can sometimes lose her magic
the earth had stood frozen and cold
and hard for nights and longer nights
and days and grey filled days
all the grass and all the dirt crunches beneath your salt-stained boots
and there is ice on the pavement and snow on top of it
and snow and snow and snow”

I wrote that last year here, but this February is nothing like last year. We’ve had snow on the ground since like January 15, and right now there’s a new blanket of it. It rained yesterday, but then the temperature dropped last night, so now there is ice dangling from every tree branch. It’s beautiful (the ice on my car may not be so beautiful).

2.

“I saw a hawk fly slow on a winter evening, then it dived, as swift and as smooth as a bomb from the belly of a plane.”

3.

A song to start your day:

4.

I have made the grave mistake of finishing this blog at the end of the day. I know better than this. But this morning, I ran out of things to say and thought, “well, maybe by the end of the day I’ll have plenty of things I want to say.” And…that has not turned out to be very true.

The end of the day sees me sitting on the couch in a hoodie eating trail mix. It’s been a rather distracted day, but I did manage to get all the important stuff done (however, the creative stuff didn’t get as much done because my brain is sipping margaritas on the beach while my body is shivering in cold, cold Cleveland).

So, with this last explanation of why I have nothing more clever to say, tootles.

One thought on “Saturday Morning Post, Vol. 63

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