Small Stone -- February 8

Snow. Because it's February and really, that's what is supposed to be here in the hills in February. So, the day sifted a bit over grass and trees. It was this one day, really, and it was kind of phoned in. Nevertheless, it put on a show, drifting one moment, and the next, slanting with the wind in a fake scream. I saw it swirl once. Instead of a bow at the end, more of a shrug as the sun called curtains. But in the pines, a bit of the old artistry like a final wink.