Saturday snows fall delicatley onto the spinning earth . The outter blue atmosphere is covered with low laying gray clouds . Naked trees stand sentinel watch and perch to winter birds . A milk truck rushes by on the winding road acrossed the frozen lake . Deer are hidding and feeding in the forrest of evergreens . The last few remaining oak and ash leaves dangle in west ward winds . Inside this warm house i listen to the steady gentle hiss of gas flame of the stove . On the stove a pot of fruit stews and bubbles softly . Ideas of spring start taking ghostly shape in my many winters day dreams .
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