Blizzard

I sit in my writing room in the corner between two windows protecting me from slanting white angry rain or is it hail? A blizzard creaks the logs and trembles my desk. And I feel excitement. Winter's coming and I can't wait. Yesterday, I drove the kids home in a sea of fog and today, I bounced teething Ethan in my arms and pointed out the terminal dust on the ring of mountains around our cabin. It's coming. Later than usual, I think. The river still echoes in our valley, pounding strong.