March 5, 2026
Good morning!
It’s Thursday, and it snowed again—the kind of snow that settles on every surface, etching outlines that turn the world into a giant woodcut print. I especially love what it does to the dogwood, creating tufts that nestle into the hands of each branch like cotton balls.
As soon as the sun came out, everything started melting. Every few minutes you’d see another clump of snow plop onto the ground, as if the trees and rooftops and power lines were engaged in a friendly snowball fight with earth itself.
“Winter is the king of showmen,
Turning tree stumps into snowmen
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over lakes.
Smooth and clean and frosty white,
The world looks good enough to bite.
That’s the season to be young,
Catching snowflakes on your tongue.
Snow is snowy when it’s snowing,
I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.”—Ogden Nash
Onwards,
Clara
I have always loved Ogden Nash, and used his poetry in the primary grades I taught for years. Thanks for the memories.
My grandmother and her friends recited Ogden Nash during their cocktail hour. They called themselves The Jolly Girls. I can still remember many of them by heart.