The wrinkles of the road

Snow

by Emily Dickinson

It sifts from Leaden Sieves —

It powders all the Wood.

It fills with Alabaster Wool

The Wrinkles of the Road —

It makes an Even Face

Of Mountain, and of Plain —

Unbroken Forehead from the East

Unto the East again —

It reaches to the Fence —

It wraps it Rail by Rail

Till it is lost in Fleeces —

It deals Celestial Vail

To Stump, and Stack - and Stem —

A Summer’s empty Room —

Acres of Joints, where Harvests were,

Recordless, but for them —

Well, Emily wasn't driving over Snoqualmie Pass when she wrote that pretty poem.  Tomorrow we're headed to the Methow Valley. We haven't seen the family since Christmas-- too long. 

The weather looks like a "wintry mix" in the Valley, with wet snow on the passes tomorrow.  So we're taking bouncy Little Beep the Honda, because Mr. Avalon (my car) is not allowed out in the snow.  I hope to have some new pictures to post this weekend.   Those girls are really growing fast.  Nova started piano lessons, and Amanda said she is preparing a recital for Nana and Grandpa.  Fun times ahead.