We were lulled to sleep last night by the patter of rain.
We woke to the whine of the rising wind, to a world frosted over.
Snow is rare here, usually flaking and melting in a matter of hours.
Sub-freezing temperatures may allow this dusting to stay.
Skittering over subtly icy roads.
Swirling across roofs.
Blanketed in white, the landscape seems foreign and bleak.
Not enough to play in, but just enough to cocoon ourselves inside.
Watching the flakes dance and swirl from inside our blanket fort.
Cozy with hot chocolate.
Swathed in fleece.
Covered in wool.
It's winter inside, too.