All of a sudden I miss all the snow (and everyone)

All good things must come to an end. It is practically spring and even though it snowed decent today, here are some images to help you imagine what it used to be like.


The snow will not last forever, and that is not a metaphor for something else. This does not have to be depressing, but when I watch it wane with wary wits, what can we wax but woe? (That sentence was not even a stretch.) I have had very little time to think about a lot of the thinking time that I constantly have. I like to start most sentences with a single letter word. A weird sentence to write starts with an a. These thoughts sound more congruous in my head, probably. Hunger steels my resolve for food. This might seem like a useful exercise in brainstorming to a reader that has never had a good idea. So little snow, even less time...