When I went to bed last night, there were only a few of the most delicate, feathery snowflakes sprinkled overhead.
During the night a storm blew in awakening me from my slumber.
It tapped and rattled at the windows, whining loudly through the trees. It howled most of the night, reminding me of a child's' temper tantrum, demanding my attention.
I pulled my blankets up around my ears trying to stifle the petition of the storm. Knowing the storm was not getting any sympathy from me, it eventually quieted down and subsided its lobbying for attention and finished the night in silence.
As I awoke this morning, I peeked from behind the blinds not knowing what to expect from all the commotion of last nights child-like temper display.
The storm lay in sweet repose at my feet, and I, as if the proud Mom, just stood and grinned astonished at the beauty.
