Monday, January 2, 2012
The River: Writing Challenge Day 2
The crust of new snow, the bite of a north wind, the sky turning to a deep blue. There is beauty to be seen, even as my feet slip on the ice and my eyes water from the cold. And I am mindful of the gift of mind peaceful enough to simply notice the sensory experience.
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We are still waiting for snow, happy to have been excused so far, from its icy clutches. You don't associate snow with California, but up here on our ridge, at 3,300 feet, we will get several visits in excess of two to three feet, and we're happy to sidestep the issue, for one December at least. The bite of the north wind is still worse than its bark.
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