There is always a deep sense of peace in the light of snow.  The big tree outside of my window is covered, but the snow unsatisfied with how it had tricked my mind into the desire for the comfort of fireplaces, slippers and blankets to snuggle up in started to come down again at a 90 degree angle and with persistence, though some of the flakes seemed lost and flurried in the air and drifted down not paying attention to the flock.  I wondered about the Robins, the bulbs in the ground and all those things of spring tricked just when they were wanting to come out and play, but I am determined that this snow will not have its way with me today, and things will get done on time, even if spring has not yet found her way into our hearts. 

Reflection:  The myth makers want me to believe that I create my own reality, but as always I see our mutual creation, and I wonder about this snow in Minnesota, this year and this day, as if there is a voice from somewhere in choir saying everything is possible and nothing is unchangeable. I listen and the choir rings in, we are not quite ready for spring and need to sit with winter and reflect a bit more.  My neighbor goes to clean off my car, as if he knows I am getting ready to travel.  ©Roseroberta