…and then it snowed. Soft, fluffy flakes. It was a delight. It was also plenty cold, and without any warm sun shining through the big windows of the meetinghouse, it was very nearly as cold inside as out.

Outside, the only sounds were the soft swishes of snow and it felt cleansing to stand outside and take it all in. The snow felt like a gift. (A gift that melted by the next afternoon, but you know what I mean – especially if you live in an arid place, like I do, where whatever snow we do get is much less fluffy and much more like annoying little ice pellets.)

South Solon Meetinghouse
Solon, Maine
photographed 3.19.2026