The snow is coming down. Huge flakes as if a child is up there just cutting snowflakes out of a piece of paper watching them fall at ever angel to see their newly developed design memorizing each one because they know the next will not be the same. I place my hand out and I can see the snowflake dance to my blue glove and see the magical pattern of this beautiful snow as it starts to melt on my glove. Can you imagine…can you close your eyes (well not while you read but after words) and see the little girl. The red-head with hair in a loose braid that weaves around her neck, it tucks her ear in just so-just so you can see you the ear lob. The ear lob. In the right ear lob that is lightly covered with red hair-Irish red hair. There is an earing. A dangling white gold earing at the end is eight snow flakes. Eight beautiful little snowflakes just dangling at the end of her earing swaying just a little in the moon breeze just as her feet are dangling rhythmically to music only she can hear. Sitting there feet dangling Wearing a dress made out of thin lacy gold. Holding scissors she is slowly folding a piece of paper in half and delicately and patiently she is cutting patterns into the paper, the reveals the most gorgeous emotional snow flakes ever made. You can see the love that went into making these. She drops them as if she wants us to see her love, her story.
As I look around I remember that I am damn cold! I only came outside to let the dog in. I look down the dog has snow on him and is not pleased that I have been night dreaming….lost in the vortex of the floating snow flakes.