The storm is over, for the most part. A few flakes still fall, like cotton candy...dancing. The ground covered in a thick blanket of white. Mountains of snow make the perfect playground for the children who got a day off from school.
Perched four stories up, looking down from my office window they look like colorful ants on a white ant hill. They scurry around manically. One builds a castle, another comes along and knocks it down. Fist fly, words are exchanged. And then just as quickly as it all started it ends, and the two warriors are now friends, rebuilding the castle...bigger, better.
A plow goes by, rumbling, throwing snow from the road; covering anyone and anything in its path. I quiver a bit inside as I watch a small bird fly away just in time. Seconds from a snowy, icy death.
The wind blows and I swear I can feel the building sway...like a Latin dancer holding his lover.
I hear voices...soft at first, then as I focus they become louder... The television over my shoulder flickers. I squint, placing my attention on the screen. And it is that moment that I hear the words I've dreaded to hear....
"The ground hog has seen his shadow, six more weeks of winter."
I silently cuss. Then turn to the window again, the children are gone. The plow has destroyed their castle...the cityscape is a frozen tundra. The wind blows, and the building dances....
Six more weeks....
