A Winter Guest Is Obliged to Stay

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Madrona sunrise, snowy morning on Vashon Island

 Newfallen snow, Madronas in the morning light

Morning light meets last night’s snow

Last night as I returned home from the south end of the island, the snow was falling with a grace and magic usually reserved for the dreams of my sleeping hours. Flakes as large as feathers erased the sounds of man. The ferns and fir bent gently in their new attire. I walked back to my truck grateful that our Pacific rains had abandoned their scheduled departure long enough to embrace an an arctic downdraft from British Columbia. It’s a collision that’s rare on the coast, but one that leaves those blanketed in its aftermath, smiling.

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