I woke up to a good five inches of fresh snow. Nothing more frustrating than a snow storm when April is only days away. It happens, but it does little more than make me feel helpless. Everyone else felt helpless, too, if Oslo evidence proves anything. Buses and cars were sent into chaotic disarray, unable to maneuver, as the mostly mild winter had given way to springlike weather and warmth in recent weeks. No one was prepared for this. Happily I had nowhere I needed to go – working at home offers that kind of comfort. Still, looking out the window while snow flurries fly, the accumulation inspires only impotent irritation.

Maybe when I wake up tomorrow it will all have disappeared.

On the bright side, I did discover some poetry from Afanasy Fet that addresses this very matter.