If I didn’t know the farmhouse down the road was there, I would never have seen it at the height of the storm this afternoon, it was as if we were enveloped in an angry but beautiful cloud, at times the house disappeared completely, and at times, it appeared out of the wind and snow like some sort of specter.

This is the last, if not one of the last great gasps of winter and  it left its mark on us. I am sore from shoveling. Depending upon which weather forecast you listen to, the storm is winding down, or the real storm is on its way, prepared to dump two feet of snow on us.

I think it’s winding down, but we’ll see. Spring is peeking through the woods, the bulbs are coming up, the sun is a  Spring sun, not a winter sun. We are just about there and I did feel some sadness, this feels like a goodbye from the Winter Pasture, winter is grinding sometimes, but it defines us and also gives definition to the rest of the year.

You either see it that way or you don’t.