The screech is loud and shrill.

So is the laugh that follows.

The interruption makes me look up.

From the window, I see the tops of two heads wagging back and forth. One small with a pink puffy pom-pommed hat. The other is larger with grey thinning hair. There’s some arm flailing, and legs kicking, until finally they get up and walk on, the tiny girl pulling her grandpa to go faster, faster.

Later, when I walk to the mailbox, I see the imprints of two angels in the snow. One big. One small.

Love, February