Winter soliloquy

I walk trough the muffled landscape of my back yard, brilliant with its winter blanket—all embroidered with millions of sparkling diamonds. The only sound I hear on this frigid January morning is of birds calling their mates. The sun is low and the shadows are long. I smell the woody smoke of logs in a fireplace. The garden is napping peacefully, and all is well. I say to those who incessantly complain about not liking our New England winters to open their eyes and enjoy these beautiful gifts that Mother Nature has given us!