Swan
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Swan

The beautiful photo of the swans was taken by the talented Janet Wallace. Did you too see it, drifting, all night on the black river? Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air, an armful of white blossoms, a perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned into the bondage of its wings:  a snowbank, a bank of lilies, biting the air with its black beak? Did you hear it, fluting and whistling a shrill dark music, like the rain pelting the trees,             like a waterfall knifing down the black ledges? And did you…

Winter White
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Winter White

Above me the sky is white. Snow as fine as sand drifts down. Under my feet, the ground is white. I am cocooned by white. It is cold. The whole last week has been subzero. The temperature bottomed out at -40 degrees Fahrenheit a couple nights ago. Or that is my best guess, as my electronic thermometer quit reading after -39 degrees. I had no intention of poking my nose out the front door to look at the mercury thermometer. Cold is cold. Now, it had warmed up to -7. Wow. Following days cooped up in the house, I went…