With my head still on the pillow and eyes just flicked open, I knew upon waking what it looked like outside. You can hear the silence of snow. It puts a dullness on the air in the most beautiful way, a little like being in a recording booth.
I still get the twisting, gnawing surge of anxiety when it snows, despite its beauty. I have nothing to fear, but history-feelings of troubles associated with snow always surge upward, and I have remind them they have a place of their own to stay.
The trees hang heavy, ground unavailable to the birds - the apples are needed outside today. And breaking the ice on the bird bath. Time to get busy.