Winter paints in watercolors and jewels. Diamonds dance on delicate pinks and blues.
I wonder as the day draws me out into the marvelous cold: Why do we say “the dead of winter” when we clearly see signs of life in the snow?
The Dead of Winter
Winter paints in watercolors and jewels. Diamonds dance on delicate pinks and blues.
I wonder as the day draws me out into the marvelous cold: Why do we say “the dead of winter” when we clearly see signs of life in the snow?
Journey Down a Moonlit Path 
People with eyes to see like yours see life and beauty everywhere. God bless you, Mary.
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Beautifull Mary. Between the birds of the air. Ducks in and out of the water. Especially the footprints of animals in the snow. It’s all there.
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