This morning, in the wee dark hours, my boy Maximo barked to say he needed to go outside. Snowflakes fat as silver dollars fell thick, and fast. Maximo and I stood on the porch, astonished.
This morning, after the sun came up, we went out again. The luminous snow — dimmer by daylight, and crunchy underfoot — melted while the trees went drip, drip, drip. I was glad Maximo woke me when he did. To witness snow falling in the most quiet hour is magic indeed.
Here lies Maximo dreaming of snowflakes, fat as silver dollars.