On the drive to work, the air is beset with a fair fog and flitting flurries, so as far-sight is thwarted by the horizon’s over-filled capacity. This display of winter’s mischievous audacity is also, at once, a harbinger of ethereal veracity as the opacity fills me with adrenalous tenacity with each winding bend, for the thrill of life. Obscured though my vision may be, and inconvenienced by the blustery weather, I marvel at the vacillation of shadows and lights in each reflection and refraction of light in its deflection off crystalline flecks dancing ‘gainst the landscape–quite to my satisfaction. What beauty, what grace fills this mundane space! Such common place face donned by winter’s visage is a missage heralding the good Father. To think, an occurrence, such a bother, might bring inspiration and joy– a coy ploy to employ. No annoyance, rather a flamboyance of splendor giving clairvoyance to heaven.