Driving

It snowed yesterday covering the North East in a blanket of white powder. Filling in the crevices between cobblestones and the folds of the fields.

Driving south through the land tamed centuries before by the toil of sweat of our ancestors, you feel like you are wrapped in clouds, slowing watching the sun sink in golden bands of light between the fluffy white of land and sky. Slowly giving way to the all encompassing dark of the early northern night.

The fields are a patchwork of white and brown stretching on forever across both sides of the highway revealed only by the pale beams of our headlights fleeting through the expanse.