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November 13, 2020
The snow crept in last night on sock feet, carrying its shoes, and took a place on the couch without waking anyone. It lay there quietly all night beneath the short blanket it had found. It was still there this morning when I got up to make coffee, so it was my turn to go about the house quietly as it slept, to sit in my chair in the twilight of very early morning and consider the snow, its travels up to now, and the many things that had happened to it to bring it, once more, to my door.