New Year's Eve 2013, quiet evening in Chicago with husband, daughter and granddaughter. The snow is heavily falling, we peek out the frosty windows to the street lights, checking, wondering: will the soft white flakes continue through the New Year's Night? For a southern gal this is quite an experience....Slowly I breathe memories on the panes: I am a small child, on a farm, running in snow up to my knees, falling, plopping, sinking into soft white pillows forming snow angels.
This silence gives pause for a moment's reflection....
Tomorrow will be a snow-white Day, a New Day in my blank white day-calendar.
What will the pages hold?