"But that was not the same snow," I say. "Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss…"
For some perspective on this view out the window: that shed is 7 feet tall.
Looking at the garage, it seems like we're all going to be here a while.
Abe Sauer is staying in.