A week ago, we awoke to find a skim of ice on the river. In the afternoon, a flurry passed through, and while the snow didn’t stay on the ground, it stuck to the ice, making a pattern of white on the water.
It marked the beginning of snow season. Over the next few days, the temperature dropped and wintry squalls moved through, leaving a frosty white landscape in their wake.
A frigid week followed. Summer is just a fading memory. We are consoled by the thought that at least we aren’t in hard-hit Buffalo, which received more than 65 inches of snow last week. Tonight, as I write this, the temperature is above freezing and it is raining.
Willow House Chronicles 