A light snow has been falling through most of this last day of January. I can still see it falling, the swirling flakes illuminated within the column of light cast by a streetlight, a thin dusting of the purest white layering my car. Such a slow snowfall with so little accumulation--this is no storm, nothing truly dangerous, but the spirits of winter at their most benevolent, bringing us a taste of what can sometimes be a quiet and beautiful season. No doubt at some point a snow plow will come rumbling through to scrape the streets. But for now it's soothing to simply watch the mesmerizing flakes tumble through the light, then move back into the dark and fall to the frozen earth.

This dusting of snow--
tomorrow cat prints will bloom
across the white lawn.