We’re back in Spokane. The snow is two feet deep and still falling. It’s nice to see it through the large picure windows that line the back of the house. Being from Tucson, snow typically is a distant concept that relatives speak of when contrasting backyards. The kids forayed into the deep snow looking for snowmen and snow forts, but found only pillow-feather fluff that resists becoming snow balls like clothes in an over-packed suitcase.
Today the flakes are lazily making their way to join the multitude of flakes before them. It’s just the way snow would fall on a Hawaiian beach. The wind is enjoyably absent; the smell of green chili pezole warms the air; a christmas tree adds cheer to the house and the kids are crafting gifts and cards with glue, glitter, and colored paper.
Life is good.