Snow: a poem

Sifting down out of the sky
Nibbling away at the edges of definition
Obliterating all in a blanket of


Into the Crevasse: Snow Monsters (#fiction)

It is mid-afternoon and I am walking north across the potato fields. I can see the glacier ahead of me, pouring out of the mountains to the northeast. Suddenly I stumble. I look down at a row of rocks across the field in front of me. I step over the rocks, and onto the icy snow of the glacier.

I move more slowly now, careful of my footing and probing the snow ahead of me with the walking stick. Suddenly the end of the stick breaks through the snow ahead of me. I stop and move forward very slowly. I fear a deep crevasse, but what I see is a flattened section of snow about fifteen feet wide running from left to right. I frown and step into it. I see that it seems to be made up of large footprints. This must be the path of the snow monsters! Their camp must lie at the end of it. And since they always approach town from the north, their camp must be to the north of me, farther into the glacier.  I turn left.

I move more confidently, since the snow monsters pound this path during every snowstorm. Soon I begin to see bones and body parts littering the path and surrounding snow. I look intently at the litter, trying to identify its origin. To my right, a human skull grins at me from the edge of the path. I flinch and stifle a shriek. I stop staring at the litter.

The litter gets thicker and I must step over and through it. I want to gag. I hold back sobs, afraid of being heard. What if I’m stepping on Erik, my beloved husband, right now? I try not to retch.

The light is dimmer now. I am surprised — it’s too early for sunset. I look up and see that the path walls have grown up around me — I am moving into a crevasse. I hear guttural noises ahead of me. The camp must be very close.

I move to the side of the path and crouch down behind a boulder. I shrug off my pack and open it up. I rummage through my belongings until I find a candle and a matchbox. On my long walk here, I have thought a lot about this moment of approaching the snow monsters’ lair. I am hoping that they will fear fire as much as they fear flame.

I replace my pack and slip the matchbox into my pocket. Carrying my candle and my stick, I sidle in the direction of the noise. Soon I see the snow monsters’ lair before me. There isn’t much to see. Hiding behind another boulder, I search for signs of civilization. I see none. No tents, no sleeping bags or blankets, no toys or tools. Just piles of bones and smooth places in the snow, and many, many snow monsters in all postures, lying, sitting, standing. Some appear to be visiting with each other, others grooming, some sleeping, some gnawing bones.

I tremble with fear. How will I get away from here alive, let alone find Erik? The candle in my hand is meager reassurance.

Snow Monsters ( #fiction )

This week has been bitterly cold, below zero every night. But there has been no snow, and so no snow monsters. This morning, it was warmer, all of 33 degrees out. But as my husband headed off to work, he said there would be a blizzard later. Keep the children at home. But when it was time to take them to school, the air was clear and the wind was warm. Perhaps there would be no blizzard, I thought. So I took them to school.

When I went out halfway through the morning, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. The dark clouds formed a wall around the valley, but they seemed even less threatening than they had earlier, even as they loomed against the blueness.

I hate living this way, never knowing if I am safe, if the children are safe, or if a moment of perceived safety would become a moment of ruin and destruction.

I decided not to run my errands, and get the children early from school. Just as we pulled in the driveway, the wind picked up, swirling snowflakes around the car.

“Run, run!” I shouted, and the children raced into the house and I began slamming shutters shut. The howling began, indistinguishable from the wind at first, and then louder and louder. The door slammed shut behind me with a clang. I turned the lock and ran down the stairs to the basement.

The children were crying. “Mommy, we thought the snow monsters got you!”

“No, no, not this time. They don’t want me, anyway. I’m too tough!” We laughed, and I hugged them closer.

Part I
Part II


Friday Feature: The Day After The Snow: A Handmade Craft Treasury

Yesterday we had a big snowstorm here, and woke up to three inches of snow. Today the sun is out, and the brilliant blue sky is shining above the sparkling white snow. Inspired, I made an Etsy treasury, a collection of handmade crafts, to celebrate this beautiful day. Every item in the collection is blue, white, or both. The treasury includes a greeting card, hand-carved buttons, jewelry, a beaded tassel, and more. Enjoy!

‘The Day After the Snowstorm’ by lizbethsgarden

The day after the snowstorm is brilliantly clear with a bright blue sky and sparkling white snow.

Holiday Card, Best …


Crystal snowflake o…


Plus Size hypoaller…


Upcycled Bottle Coz…


Blue Snowflake Orna…


Ceramic Cross Rosar…


Cosmetic bag/Sugar …


Mesh Slouch Hat in …


Blue Cotton Fabric …


Handmade Ceramic Bu…


Feather hair extens…


Coffee Mug Cozy – B…


Nittany Lion Paw Ne…


Blue Wedding Beaded…


White Mum Flower Fe…


Felted Blue Purse w…


Treasury tool by Red Row Studio.

Snow Monsters: A (Fiction) Vignette

The sun was shining but the cloud wall was moving in from the north. The streets quickly emptied out as the call went out. “The snow monsters are coming!” This was the first big storm of the season, but we soon remembered what to do. The cars pulled into driveways, doors slammed, shutters pulled across the windows. We got the whole house locked and shuttered and curled together in the unfamiliar darkness of our daylight basement. Harry whimpered softly. We knew when the cloud wall hit, the sound of the wind and then the quiet of snow falling was unmistakeable. We shivered, knowing the snow monsters couldn’t be far behind.

The howling started, and we shuddered and drew closer. We could hear the snow monsters slamming into our shutters and yanking on the locks. When they couldn’t get in, they moved onto the next house. Hours later, the snow stopped and the snow monsters retreated to the mountains and glaciers north of town. We emerged from our houses, blinking in the light. We were safe, until next time.

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