On my walk this morning it was a white world, much like the above photograph. We walked down to the rail trail, Roby and Archie and me, and we trudged through over a foot of snow. We had to duck under bent boughs and push them aside. A few times I tried to rustle the branches to clear off the snow, hoping they’d bounce back so we wouldn’t have to duck so low beneath them; the snow was too heavy and icy, it clung to the branches as I shook them. 

We had no power last night, we slept in silence and I walked about with a flashlight as I hunted a rooster that I only caught because it couldn’t run through the neck-deep snow (to him). I expected there to be more of that as more trees were brought down by the heavy snow. I heard more than one moan, and at least one heavy branch crack as a I walked. 

I had that in the back of my mind, another night without electricity due to distant branches, when my desk began to rattle at around 10:30. A minor earthquake turned the white world halfway green.

I wish I had seen it. 
Instead I looked away from my computer for a few seconds to see a fume of snow filling the air, shrugged off from the trees.