December 14, 2009 by Dave Bonta A couple degrees above freezing. The snowpack has softened, and the squirrels chasing back and forth through the laurel hardly make a sound. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
December 14, 2008 by Dave Bonta Mid-morning, and the snow on the roof has sprouted tendrils of ice reaching for the ground. They drip; they sway in the breeze; they let go. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
December 14, 2007 by Dave Bonta Riddle me this: no snow fell here, but the ground is white. The trees with their thin coats of ice creak and clatter in the darkness. Share on social media Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads