Dec 18th 2009
At the back door of my home in West Asheville - letting the cold air in, the warm air out – there is a quiet tinkling of crispy snow as it lands on the trees, the shrubs, the grass. I am mesmerized and cannot move; the deck is piled high with snow, silhouettes of the trees have become more pronounced as the gray limbs become accented in white. I hear the high-pitched laughter of kids as they slide on the streets out front, the crows are cawing as they fly overhead and I am thinking that I need to put on my boots and get more seed in the feeders...
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