BIG fat flakes that appeared out of nowhere, floating down out of the grey skies, looking all the world like left-over ash. Traffic stopped, and people came out of the shops to marvel at the whiteness and to laugh and shiver a bit at the sudden onset of winter.
Now everything is white and cloudy and cold. The snowplows are out, spraying salt on the slush, and even the funny little machine that clears the sidewalks has zipped around town twice now.
I think I'll make soup tonight. Split pea or pasta e fagioli, something hot and rich and comforting that I can drink out of my favorite cup, clinking my spoon against it while the snow comes down and the christmas lights glisten.