Annual March Snow

We always get snow in March. At least it seems. Tonight we're watching snow blow around, unsure whether it will stay or go. Just days ago it was nearly Spring. The Robins stood in the road this morning, casting a doubtful daze upward. As if begging for logic or a little bird sweater, oblivious to the angry hum of a cold engine approaching. Tonight my family is curled up, cozy in this 1790s era farmhouse. Grateful. Warm. Fed. In love.

The Blue Ridge Mountains that usually paint the horizon in beauty are hidden, blanketed in this late season snow.

The Blue Ridge Mountains that usually paint the horizon in beauty are hidden, blanketed in this late season snow.

Cozy corner of our farmhouse.

Cozy corner of our farmhouse.

Daffodils we picked from the field yesterday.

Daffodils we picked from the field yesterday.

Beekman 1802