My yard. Today. The snow just keeps coming, transforming the trees into something magical, dreamlike. The sleepyhead pines and cedars bow their heavy heads. Like a visitation, a hawk swoops overhead to land in a nearby tree, shaking down clots of snow. Then perfectly still, he/she watches me back.From "Silent Snow, Secret Snow," a short story by Conrad Aiken:
The hiss was now becoming a roar -- the whole world was a vast moving screen of snow -- but even now it said peace, it said remoteness, it said cold, it said sleep.
Conrad Aiken (1889-1973)
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4 comments:
Christine,
I love this photo!!! How are you doing? My book is coming out in April, and I would love to get your physical address, so I can send you a copy to complete our "book swap". I will be having some readings in the city in April and will let you know about them. Hope you are well. Thinking of you, Alexandra.
Seems to be a time of dramatic weather happening in so many places. Too much of one thing for so many people. Yours is a beautiful serene picture, but I'm sure you are dying for Spring....
Hi, Alexandra! Thanks! So delightful to find you here on my computer screen. I will write to you shortly. Congratulations on your new book!
Hello, Annie! Yes, the snowy landscape has been enchanting, but you are right -- I'm ready for some citrus-green to unfurl. Thanks for stopping by!
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