We seem to be in a weather pattern where it snows every other day. I no sooner get the driveway cleared and the cars cleaned off when another storm hits and I need to do it all over again. Living in eastern PA this is something to be expected.
The last couple of years, however, were pretty mild. We maybe had two major storms all season. I think that spoiled me. Now I feel like winter will never end.
I look out the bathroom window at our back yard and all I see is a blanket of white covering the ground. I do admit that it is pretty.
The snow is unblemished unlike the snow out front where it has been dirtied by plows going by and pushing muck onto it.
However, there is something unusual about the snow in the back yard and that is what led to this poem.