Provided
It can be magic, transformative, dangerous and dreadful.
This wet, white shapeshifter falling in pillows across Chicago this month was delivered silently and softly, adding a new room to the city’s already isolated house of coronavirus.
Snow’s footprint in my life has been a big one; an occupying force staying well beyond welcome in the states of my youth: North Dakota and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
The Dakota wind was so cold and strong, it seemed to blow snowflakes across the prairie for miles before landing. The U.P. winter drifts were high and deep and beyond the patience of length.