New England Diary

View Original

Blanketing the sins on our street

  FullSizeRender

 

After an uneasy sleep, I awoke this morning n0t to discover that I had turned into a giant insect but rather that the neighborhood was muffled and white. Great beauty. And then I heard a bird sing in a maple tree as if it were May.

There is something to be said for not plowing, for a little while.

--- Robert Whitcomb