We are well into spring, it seems. Small patches of snow and a few crunchy puddles tell me I need to document last season’s nectar list before I forget what they were. This winter, though miserable and cold, was too short for me. It could have gone on for ages longer. Springtime is planting and seeds and tilling. Springtime is sunshine and hauling and digging. Springtime is labor. Winter is rest.
- Snow that whips and swirls like a snowglobe.
- One night, the moon was full and the ground was shimmery-white with snow. The moonlight bounced and glittered off of the earth’s white blanket, sparkling with cold and frosty light.
- Riding the chairlift at Christie Mountain while the snow falls.
- Crocheting in my chair, wrapped in a blanket with a small heater humming next to me.
- Cooking for my dad.
- When Honey gets a bath, I like to call her Squeaky Clean. She runs around the house damp and happy.
- Freshly vacuumed floors.
- Fresh flowers in vases around the house.
- Sleeping in clean sheets after a shower.