treetop tender_square i was standing at the doorway in my wool socks, peering out of one of six square windows when i heard the soft crack. the motion light for the porch came on. the white, thick band of snowfall and the pale sky made a mockery of night. have you ever seen bursts of lightning and claps of thunder during a blizzard? i was sure a branch had buckled, falling slowly to ground in prayer before my eyes. daybreak showed me otherwise: a skinny arbor vitae was broken at its middle. last week their boughs held the weight of a hundred karat diamonds. last night's snow crashed in when temperatures on the ground were above freezing. and so it melted, and adhered, and made a bandage of ice and accumulation. 230304 what's it to you? who go blather from