It is my favorite kind of winter day. Soft, light snow is falling. It gives the world such a peaceful look and feel to it, a kind of quiet and a hush that no other kind of day can pretend. In stark contrast to the winter white, the cardinal makes a bright red brushstroke in the middle of the tableau.
This is the kind of day that makes me thrilled to have soup on the stove, the smell of woodsmoke in the air and a good book to settle in with.
Two out of three isn't bad, I do have a good book, but it is a school day and it is almost time to begin. Later on, I hope the girls will go out sledding, there is a layer of ice underneath the snow which ought to make for a great track.
And amid all this keeps running the surreal thought, my husband is in Africa.