Winter collapsed on us that year. It knelt, exhausted, and stayed.
Emily Fridlund, History of Wolves
A crazy amount if snow falls, and keeps falling, and the wind whips it into white whirls. It’s a February blizzard. All day.
Unless the snow plough comes early, we may not be able to get out to go to church this morning. I must have had that on my mind as I slept because I woke from a dream in which we were scrambling to find ushers but they were all snowed in too.
Hoping, as I write this around 4ish on Sunday morning, that it wasn’t a prophetic dream.