Seattle immediately after a snowstorm is a beautiful winter scape. I took our 20 year old Toyota All Trac (that homely little red car takes to snow and ice like a silver fox....), affixed the Transponder for the bridge toll to the windshield, and took off on our frozen, still unplowed streets. The 520 Bridge, however, had been plowed and sanded and was in excellent shape, and the going was a breeze. And there, west of the western high rise, were my friends. Ethel was perched on the same pole she and Eddie always favored, and directly across the bridge was Ernest. I exited 520 and drove through the Arboretum to Starbucks. The entire area was smothered in fluffy whiteness. And after a reasonable read-through of today's NY Times I headed back to the Eastside. By then Ethel had flown off for a bit of fishing, most likely, and Ernest remained on the light standard, holding court.