It's another snowy day in Madison. This is what I see from my window as I write. Sadly, it's spring in my story; if it weren't, my characters would certainly see white days like this gloomy Sunday. When I'm in Brazil, I'll remember these snowy days that left me bewitched and with more inspiration than I could handle. There's something about them that takes away one's concentration. . . in a good way, of course.