Winter Moonlight by Charles Burchfield (1951)
One time, the first winter I lived in the woods in Maine, Rick & I went for a hike on our property, in a snowstorm—one of those soft, incesssant, anarchic snowstorms that are the reason I like snow so much. We walked through the birches & firs, & didn't get lost, & when we got back to the main house, Sherri had made soup & bread.
It's going to snow some more this week.
It's going to snow some more this week.