There’s something about a deep snowfall that makes me want to look deeper and think deep, poetic thoughts. So, here is a poem for you to enjoy with a sketch of my snow covered tree:

Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves,
O flakes of snow,
For which, through naked trees, the winds
A-mourning go?
Or are ye angels, bearing home
The host unseen
Of truant spirits, to be clad
Again in green?
~John B. Tabb, “Phantoms”

And, if you missed this on social media, I did this after watching Mary Shelley.  A lovely scene of her writing in her journal: