I walked out under the grey afternoon sky, pulling gloves over my hands
and fumbling for the car keys, tightening my scarf–and I looked over
at the neighbor’s pond, and I thought:

That pond was green with scum and
algae this summer, and it has gone clear as a mirror with fall, full of
ducks and red leaves. I have watched this little patch of water change
with all the wonder of watching a child being born. And that pond is
going to freeze over this winter, and it’s going to be so beautiful, so
silver and white and silent. And I’ll see it, for the first time in
years, I’ll see something freeze and go to glass, I’ll see snow swallow
everything up, and that barn will be covered in icicles, and those trees
will be stark as bones. It will be a real winter, for the first time in
as long as I can remember. The snow will come, and catch in my hair,
and my nose will turn red with cold, and I will be smiling under the

And just then, snow began to fall.

I cannot even begin to say how much I love it here.

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