The snow whispers around me
And my wooden clogs
Leave holes behind me in the snow.
But no one will pass this way
Seeking my footsteps,
And when the temple bell rings again
They will be covered and gone.
- Amy Lowell -
With the possible exchange of Uggs for clogs, this is how I feel in the snow. Being alone in the hush that descends with snowfall, in the holy light reflected from a world blanketed in white, moments stretch into infinity and feel sacred.
A more earthly dainty, but nearly as sacred to Griffin and to me: jelly donuts.