Snow

   The hatches were battened.
   The original forecast was for upper teens. We had the greenhouse sealed up, holes duct taped and doors shut tight. The heaters were primed, and I was ready to check on everything through the night.
   It was the winds that worried me most. High gusts were predicted. Gusts high enough to blow a door open. High enough to sneak under the drop down sides and blow the heaters out.
   The gusts died down even before I went to sleep, and as I write the thermometer shows a balmy 36. A case of the weather being better than the forecast. The sleet/wintry mix that was predicted even turned into a gentle layer of snow that fell without a sound.
   I see this as a symbol of the coming year. I see the coming year being better than anything expected or forecast. The winds that were to come and wreak havoc on everything that I planned will turn into a soft white blanket covered the farm, making all look new and clean.