Snowflakes were drifting around the farm long before I got up this morning.
While I fed the animals it seemed a snowfall, later, while I worked in my studio they were more like seeds on the wind. Spare and singular they floated on invisible air currants, shy compared to the downy woodpecker at the feeder.
All day it snowed in varying amounts, yet there are only odd speckled shapes on the ground, where the sun couldn’t reach, to show for it. And, I suppose, the mud it left when it melted.