Delaying my Toronto visit until the storm passes. It's coming tonight, all wind and snow, slashing it's way from the states up to us. They see it coming in photos of the sky, and the news is whispered in our collective ear: warning!
I was prepared to narrow my brows, harden my shoulders, and plow my way through... but danger is danger. The warnings sound real enough I shall surrender to the dark clouds to the South, and wait, and watch it blow by through the window, tea in hand. Or maybe I will go out in it and feel the winter's kiss, hair swirling, eyelashes frozen.
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