A Tenth Winter Haiku

Late winter’s freezing fog left beauty in it’s wake. The milkweed pods, floss, and seeds hang as a reminder of autumn and as a promise of spring.
A close up of milkweed pod burst open.  Freezing fog crystals cling and erupt from seed, floss, and pod.
Freezing fog clings to
Milky weed as Mercury
Rises winter wanes

Journal

, as the sun began its ascent, I again went out with my two dogs for a stomp in the deep snow.

The meteorologists forecasts temperatures rising above freezing. I don’t believe the thermometer’s made it much above 25° Farenheit since late .

Each day I’ve spent many short bursts of time outside with my two Border Collie companions. The three of us are busy making memories of what is fast becoming our favorite shared February.

And unlike other years, up until the snow has remained soft and powdery. Today and tonight, Winter’s snow will shift to angry hard ice, clinging to it’s melting kingdom.

I write all of these winter haiku to cast my memory forward, knowing at one point all too soon, our season of togetherness will end.

But for now, we’re going out for yet another stomp in knee deep snow.