Snow

Last snowflakes melted this weekend. Time has moved to spring. I remember one snowy day, stabbing cold fingers, music accompanying my photo delight, couchy snowdrifts and tiny cling on ice balls in dog fur.

I played with how I see.

Do I focus on the flakes and watch each in sharp relief? Do I look beyond them and feel them blur into me, like an ever washing tide? I am woozy in the blanket swirl, reminded of a baby curl cowlick…I poke my nose outside and smell as they touch the ground, each making way for the other, each changed by the next and the one before. I remember more as I see the photographs…laughter, blue snow light and a neatly  hurled snowball in my lens. ~ Amy