March 3, 2009 by Dave Bonta Cold air, bright sun. Snow-motes drift down from a cloudless sky. A mourning dove’s song. Dad calls to tell me Mom’s having dizzy spells. Share on social media Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads