Snow Worries

Salt trucks rumbling in the darkness.

Narrow escapes walking on ice.

Ominous wind chills. Gloves. Scarves. Hats.

Winter seventeen days away.




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We had our first real snowfall of the season last night. Only two or three inches, but everything outside is white.

I woke up and wrote an acrostic about it.

I don’t know which worries me more: The fact that the snow and slush and cold might make it harder to get together with a friend for tea or soup; or the fact that I woke up and wrote an acrostic.

“O” is for ominous . . .