There was snow on the ground this morning, but it was all gone by noon, a quiet rain melting it all down into the winter grass, clearing the way for more on the way overnight. Jinx and I did a fair amount of rambling, and I spent quite a bit of time examining the buds on the bushes and shrubs in the woods. The green is slumbering, but it will awake. Will Arthur ever awake? Or will his England stagger on without him, growing colder and more pecked-apart by the hour? I envy those who have legends. Here, in my haunted South, we have no more legends. We have kudzu-choked…