January’s winter storm was a piker compared with past whoppers. Barely two inches of snow fell, but a long winter’s night of sleet managed to pull it all together and put on a good show.

Now that’s a real snowstorm. Sign on lamp post says Canoe Crescent. Beneath the piles is a battered canoe

Cold weather and slick roads kept us suspended. Animals scurrying round for food left a maze of prints on skimpy but crunchy snow cover. A low-flying hawk thought the frenzied activity was worth a few fly-bys, but whether he was successful I do not know.

The blast of freeze was soon followed by a whisper of spring. Mind you, just a whisper, not a promise. The flag across the way, frozen to its pole, floated free in breezes from the south. Pocked white ground cover wasted into dingy brown under a haze of sunshine gold. Even honeybees were out scouting for pollen, dicey business (maybe fresh camellia blossoms have offerings), no straying far from home base.

Such benevolence will, in a day or so, give way to gray skies and cold rain, which will, in a few days give way to sunny days and lovely sunsets, which will. . . Oh never mind, let’s skip winter’s bouncing ball and dream of spring bulbs exploding and frozen buds smiling into blooms.

But with the dreams, keep the memory. Grand snowfalls look grand. Piker storms look . . . hm-m-m . . . interesting. . .Still, they can leave their special stamp.

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