When I got up this morning it was snowing. There was a snow warning. When I went out for my morning walk those puffy snow flakes had turned to rain. Likely the excitement of seeing that they were about to land on green grass and snowdrops and forsythia and daffodils made them melt.
However this car was parked and it had snow on it. One takes one's snow where one finds it. And one remembers, after forty-four winters in Ontario, how to make – and throw – a snowball.
PS It is snowing again. Oh, wait, no, it isn't …. wait twenty minutes.
PPS My Ontario relatives would consider, from that tiny snow splat on the wall, that I had made a snowmarble.