Aki’s neighborhood is buried in snow. Her other human, the family historian, is convinced that we have had larger snowfalls. But then, she didn’t spend three hours this morning shoveling the stuff. On our morning walk, Aki and I pass cars that look abandoned under a foot of snow. The white stuff roars off roofs, trapping at least one of our neighbors in his house. Someone will dig him out before he even notices.

            When you are not shoveling it, the snow looks lovely and brings out the beauty in most things. The three totem faces that watch over the Capital School playground wear Russian Cossacks made of snow.

            The weatherman promises rain and a lot of it today. But the snow keeps falling. I wonder if it has discouraged the city snow ploughs. None has even attempted to clear our street. Maybe they are waiting for the promised rain. If the temperature is warm enough when it arrives the rain will melt the snow like ferries’ gold. We should head back, little dog, and watch as the snow falls on something besides us. It’s a good day to hunker down.