The Bulletin-Folder's Creed

Friday, January 14, 2005

If Thursday had been bitterly cold, Friday was arctic. Outside the temperatures had dipped to twelve, with the wind chill just creeping up from negative two, to zero. It was predicted that it might only scrape past twenty by the warmest part of the day. Collette was not fancying a bitter trip to the church office over frozen roads past flooded creeks, but there wasn’t much to be done. Rain, shine, wind, sleet, or storm, the bulletin must be folded, and Collette was apparently, the only one to do it.

Clusters of white fluff nestled among the bean pod branches that morning, like little cauliflowers, waiting to be whistled off by the wind whenever it pleased. The early yellow of the sun shown patches by the shadows on the branches. Sunny days were not good when the snow was out.