The first blizzard and the goodness of soup

That morning when I checked the NOAA weather map, the entire northern tier of Montana blazed scarlet for "Blizzard," poised to pounce mid-afternoon. I walked to coffee and the post office, knowing I would not see my friends or my mail for days. The heady wine scent of fallen leaves dominated the air. Negative ions foretold the approaching storm, shifted and danced to the slightest breeze, kissed me with an overwhelming feeling of well-being.

Back home, I watched as the red line on my thermometer dropped, the sky darkened and wind chased leaves down the street. Early in the afternoon, school bu...