This is a sad picture. This was once my favorite tree in a large yard full of many trees. This tree was feathery and green and nearly 40 feet tall. In the summer, I'd make a special trip outside just to pet the soft whispery branches and breathe in the smell of all the years it had seen. When the snow was falling it would grant me a postcard view of the season right outside my front window, and at Christmas it offered me its piney branches and cones and brought its beauty inside to grace our celebrations.The first ice storm on January 12 brought down half of the limbs, and the storms on the 13th and 14th finished it off. We sat in the dark house and listened to it die, along with others almost as beautiful.
This is one view of the back from the corner of the pool looking towards our gazebo. See the trees in the background struggling to stand upright? See all the ice? See the tree that took a swim?All this is my way of explaining myself, and my lack of posts. Winter is not my season and this one has bested me. I have a sense of inertia, can't get much done and have finally pretty much just decided to go with it. So . . . I've been knitting, and spinning and enjoying the comforts of a warm furnace. Living without power and water for a week has given me a grateful appreciation for electricity and modern conveniences.
Each Christmas I re-read one of my favorite seasonal stories. With all the company and to-do going on this year I didn't get that done, and I missed it. So while I've been knitting and spinning (pictures to come) I've listened to this. Several times. Read by the man himself. It is simply wonderful. I hadn't explored the world of audio books, but boy am I a convert now.
And while I listen to beautiful showy words, I dream of summer and beautiful showy flowers.
Like this:
And this:
And I promise to quit procrastinating.
