Of course I have to talk about the snow, though I'm sure that all of you who are not experiencing this storm are sick and tired of eastern New England's one-track mind.

Friday we watched flurries all day, and then at some point overnight the real storm kicked in. When I opened my eyes this morning, the air was gray with snow, as it remains. The particles are tiny and icy, though the temperature is hovering close to zero, and the wind is howling, which is fairly rare in our tree-protected clearing. Now would not be a good time to stroll in the forest. Branches must be coming down everywhere, but more from the strength of the wind than the snow weight. The snow itself is so light that it constantly scours off into troughs and dunes. Certain places are almost bare; others are sculpted into mysterious curves. But to me most notable is the color of this storm--not white at all, more like a whirl of translucent steel.