It's snowing outside and the trees are full of white. The sparrow at the base of the tree in the front yard is throwing leaves and twigs behind it - in hopes of what? Do they build, or just organize?
It's minimal, in many eyes, this white dust that's covering the ground. But to a woman raised in central Mississippi, it's highly unfamiliar. The weim agrees.
This time, my favorite is the lightly covered tree limbs of the evergreens. You'll only see this in snow. No other season holds that place.
The man of this house, the one with the sparrow in the front yard, is away today. Learning to be a doctor in the sickest country of the world. His spirit is here, always. I adore him.