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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Snow Day Today

I must confess, this picture was not taken this morning. I found in on my daughter Natalie's Facebook page from last weekend. She took it from our front porch window. She is developing quite an eye for photography.

Had Nat taken this snapshot this morning, there would have been another foot on the ground and a huge mountain ridge of plowed snow along the street and even more flocked on the trees. See the mailboxes down by that pine tree? You can barely see them now. They are buried.

Typically, a snow day is a chance for me to nestle in with the family and get caught up on my thoughts and writing, but not today. Today I was wrapping up a four-month pile of paperwork as deep as the last night's surprise. I'm not complaining, and the good news is that mountain of forms and faxes is now plowed off to the side and I can move on to other things. I believe I will feel like a new man in the morning.

It was excellent packing-snow--perfect for making snowmen, but that was not to be.... Still, I'm very glad it came.  Snow has a way of making bleak pictures bright!


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