Snow hoodoos in our garden.
Miss Luna, a poor girl of color who’s from the wrong side of the tracks, only acts like she has a coke habit.
Barbecue’s cancelled.
Stella seems to ask—even though they cause countless
deaths and inestimable destruction—aren’t blizzards fun?
Winter wonderland, my ass.
A member of the Blackfoot tribe, she walked in circles, searching in vain for the warmth and shelter of her village chimenea.
Our truly white poplars.
After the storm, she waited for her man—adrift
somewhere on the spumy, whitecapped sea—to come home.
Xylem versus Phloem: An Epic Battle of Good and Evil
Stella’s best impression of that Labrador retriever seen on T-shirts, shams, and coffee mugs.
Click here to turn back a page.