A blizzard piles up a bunch of snow:
Our front deck disappeared entirely.
Our trailblazer cat, Fluffy.
Yes, he really is that fat.
Not a bit intimidated by all that snow.
Patio picnics will have to wait.
The back door was shovelable, but icy.
In three days it's gone from snow everywhere
to slush and ice, to scattered piles of snow.
I'm sure the aquifer did well in this storm.
Our lettuce bed yielded this tiny brassica.
A bit of gold in all the white.
I came into the dining room to find this poem,
See me and remember
the hot, hot sun
the touching breeze through
the grasses, between
There is no hope like a flower.