Wind has covered the ground with oak leaves and dry pine needles. They crunch loudly as I go out to fetch the paper. There will be much cleaning to do this afternoon, if the virus goes away. If it doesn't, then let them lie.
Short Sunday Verse
Anonymous (Six Dynasties)
Bitter cold. No one is abroad.
I have been looking everywhere for you.
If you don't believe me,
Look at my footprints in the snow.