The fire crackles hot, while I drink steaming mugs of tea on the run.
I would like to pause to mark these moments laden with winter beauty,
the icy limbs of barren branches, the silver silence of powder snowfall, the
midnight, moonlight sparkle of downy flake, and the blinding
sting of noonday. But my closets grow only more lean and ordered, and my
stovetop bubbles over with hearty soup, the house smells of fresh bread.
Bonnie Saul Wilks
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Your post was so inviting…
will be there in a few! 😊
Come on over!