This Snows Last Gasp

The ducks, normally a cacophony of squawk as they perform their mating rituals through the night, have gone silent.  The geese normally flying and gliding in paired acquaintance seeking nesting places, have landed in wait.

Snow, it falls lending an aura of clean to the city’s grey blue night light.  It falls spread thick and wet upon the roofs of cars and buildings below.  Grass newly awakened by recent warm sun is smothered into a new blanket of bald moisture.  It attaches, providing a thick white silhouette to branches of elm and oak trees planted into the flood waters of the river.

The waters have gone smooth in the still cool air.  Cold waters warmer than space surrounding release their mists mixing old waters with new only to return again as snow cold, clean, and beautiful.

Light from houses, from street lights, from buildings pierce the mist and falling powder.  Glow is sharpened in the still misty air, beacons of welcome, radiance of familiar.  Two crosses, from hospital and school, illuminate their faith into the mystery of this spring fall.

Warmth and optimism remain in season as our prairie again renders reminder of our place.  This too will pass, this snows last gasp.