There is no snow on the ground,

Yet snow is promised
It always comes
and this year the path through will be different,
this year the way to the real front door is clear and open and I very much hope that we will use that path, make a clear, shoveled way to the door over cobbled path.

That leaves the glass doors just for the family and the woods, you see, and the path therefrom will not lead to the mundane, polluting, everyday cars.
That way will be blocked, says I,
By all the beautiful snow in the world.

What I want is for the glass, south-facing, sun-loving inner doors to lead to a magical place of sledding and dog-running and sparkle and wonder. I want for these doors to lead to Faerie.

So I’m walking the new path now,
making it ready

For the snow