It's impossible to be mad at the Universe when someone takes a paintbrush to the sky and creates magic.
For days, local forecasters have been fomenting excitement - and dread - over a snowstorm they predicted would drop four inches on the area. Peanuts compared to the two feet we spent weeks digging out from last year, but enough to blanket the city streets in white quiet.
We got an inch. Tops. And I felt cheated.
Then I peeked out the window, saw that sky and whispered, "Thank you."
Dana blogs at Feast After Famine.
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