Storm watch

Blowing snow, cold wind, fluffed birds, my footprints lost as soon as I've made them - this is a winter storm watch in the North. And I was out in it with the best of them (and the worst of them), trudging through the gloaming, ice crusting my snout and drifts covering my little white socks and snow standing in a long ridge on my back and frosting my ears. The wildest of wild animals, furred or feathered, fanged or clawed, was similarly snow-assailed and searching for food in the late light (I found a wild slice of bread in someone's yard), and thinking about a sheltering place for the night.

Here is my sheltering place, a butterfly chair with a chenille throw, and I suppose the coyote I saw doesn't have quite the same comforts awaiting him. But I do and I won't complain too much and here I will stay until my next fearsome walk. Or supper.