it came

* The pure joy of waking early on a Sunday morning to peek out the window, investigating.  Yes! It fell. It came. Layering begins with the cosy cocoon of warm pajamas. Shovel, shovel, shovel. Sweep, sweep, sweep. (Though the snow is still floating down.) Off to the store for biscotti (plural). A solitary drive through unplowed roads, the headlights catching the snow glints.  I am alone. I am rugged. I am capable. Shelf stockers clog the market aisles with their work-to-do. Home through deeper snow to a driveway covered once again with snow. The crowning happiness:hot coffee with a foam of milk into which biscotti dip, dip, dip.