It’s the little things that make a difference. I took photos of a table similarly snow-bedecked in our backyard recently, but yours with the chair drawn up to it is more effective. Don’t you love the way the snow forms those straight-sided mounds, like they were created in a giant cheesecake pan?
I’m in admiration of the clever architectural instincts of snow, how it tapers just enough to keep standing. I wondered if it got high enough would it eventually be a pyramid?
Matilda Magtree 
I know. Another table. I’ll soon be expected to serve dinner at this rate.
We regularly serve this kind of cake in Montreal.
Ha! Of course. Cake is such a novelty here though. We’ve been eating mostly thin crust pizza for years…
I have a table just like this, Carin!
Cheryl, between your pictures of chairs and mine of tables, we could do a very funky furniture catalogue!
It’s the little things that make a difference. I took photos of a table similarly snow-bedecked in our backyard recently, but yours with the chair drawn up to it is more effective. Don’t you love the way the snow forms those straight-sided mounds, like they were created in a giant cheesecake pan?
I’m in admiration of the clever architectural instincts of snow, how it tapers just enough to keep standing. I wondered if it got high enough would it eventually be a pyramid?
Say no more. It looks pretty drifted on a table, but not so pretty lumped on the end of a snow shovel.
Yeah. My shovel likes it fluffy! (:
It’s about hope! And waiting! Not that I mind the snow, but I’m happy knowing spring and summer and sitting outdoors will happen again one day….
Yes, and then we’ll be comlaining about the heat. Should maybe get this framed to remind me…
What a lovely sentiment, Kristen.
So perfect, so untouched.
And I haven’t touched it since. I watch it rise and fall all winter. Like a souffle. (: