It's snowing lightly, everything looks powdered-sugar dusted. Like a giant sieve in the sky is lightly grating loveliness down upon us.
Cliche, I know, but still true, still lovely.
I marvel at the snow; it's still a novelty.
Tonight in yoga, catching glimpses of it drifting down in the circle cast by the streetlight, I wondered what could be lovelier and more zen than falling snow during yoga.