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FIFTEEN CM OF SNOW MY FOOT

So much for my weather-reading skills. Woke up this am and there was snow drifting a meter high out on the deck and in the garden, burying my optimistic seeds. Looking out the window at the stasis of snow as the entire house rises steadily through the sky, taking the world with it, trees and roads and lake and mountains and all, rising into a sky without end... and in the grove the silent cedar grove where snowflakes whisper crystal secrets to each other the branches cradle the gathering snow as the fruit of this season, the snow outlining each needle in a suave of whiteness like the hairs in the eyebrow of a lover in an ancient painting done with a brush made of the lover's hair...