Illustration
© Jane Dyer
used with permission
When
words freeze
In the thin, brittle air
and nostrils stick together,
The snow speaks
in squeaks and crunches
under the children’s feet.
Cold Cold Cold
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The
Snow Speaks Our
first winter in Alaska I was impressed with the snow, the designs
in it, the marks on it and, in a sense, what it would say to you
if you really looked and listened. The
story Review
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A
few years later I celebrated the New Year by writing The Snow
Speaks in the little cabin where I did most of my writing.
It was very cold (-45 degrees), with sparkling stars and Northern
Lights. -- Nancy