“Make something that you can only see properly from far away or at a great height.”
After yesterday’s poem about the winter landscape, I guess maybe I’m fixated on the #*@&%! snow—and how desperately I want it to disappear.
Today I used our snow-covered yard as a canvas, and my nine-year-old daughter as a stylus, to compose a terse message to the white stuff that remains deep and cold all around our home. Although the penmanship may not be perfect, I hope the call to action is clear. “Melt.” We mean it. Seriously.