Musings of the Forensic Anthropologist

On the ground this morning there was a light dusting of snow.  It wasn't enough to fully cover the ground, just enough to entice the dog to roll in it, as from the Spruce trees, the squirrels hovered, waiting for that handful of peanuts I would toss out every morning.  On such mornings, when I first awoke, I can't imagine that it is actually Spring, the landscape having the stillness of an