|The first flurry.|
A few flakes fell.
Then the air became thick with the stuff.
|View from the end of the driveway.|
|Rosemary peeks out from the herb bed.|
|Tracks are from spreading greywater on the beds, or what Risa hopes are the beds.|
|Kale, collards, and beets shaking off their blankets in the sun.|
The cold part of this snap comes tomorrow night. The lamp is already on in the pumphouse. Must remember to re-cover the figs.