warmer

First day of spring. New Year's Day in Iran. Somewhere it's spring, but not here. Two below zero this morning. In these parts it's said that sometimes the first day of spring and the first spring day can be separated by as much as a month. Over the weekend I was walking through the kitchen, and stopped dead in my tracks. For some reason I was open for a moment to the beautiful winter scene right out my kitchen window, like the scene in this photo. I was so grateful for the circumstances that brought me to this spot here on the other side of the creek. Every day I have the opportunity to observe (and chronicle) the beauty evident in this little corner of the world. Somehow I feel a little warmer.

We fixed hot chocolate, sat by the window, and read, and waited. We went for a walk in the woods with the dogs. We didn't see any deer or squirrels or even any birds. I've got a lot of wood in, but could use more.
It was like guests showing up, when the snow first started coming down, guests from out of town.
I'm from the South, will always be from the South. I'll never get used to snow--how slowly it comes down, how the world seems to slow down, how time slows down, how age and sin and everything is buried. I don't mind the cold. The beauty is worth it.
It's dark now, and still snowing. An inch, two inches, on the ground, on the car, on the trees, everything. If anything needed doing before the snow came, it should have been done yesterday.
It's going to be strange falling asleep tonight, knowing that snow is landing on the roof. It's here. We're here. Nobody's leaving

Winter
Rick Bass