Nevadan Snowman

I stood admiring the shores of the blue and beautiful Lake Tahoe on the Nevadan side. Around the corner was a snow park where mountains stood still carved out of the skies. The noon warmth kept the windy air in check. Hot rays from the sun cut deep through my sunglasses but I sit busy—working on my first ever snowman.

“Oh no.” One of the eyes fell off, and I had to fix it the second time. The hands do not match, and neither do the legs. One is always longer than the other. Anyhow. I give to you the Nevadan Snowman. Whatever!


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