We have snow cover, of course,
but the streets seem clear. We grumble about the snow, but a layer of it helps to insulate the water pipes buried in the ground from the cold in the air.
A grey sky again this morning. The typical cast of winter day once more. Let's enjoy it, even when it matches our mood, the emptiness we feel on the random morning when the emotional engine just doesn't want to start. It is cold and dull with a little frost on the windshield, a little orange in the greyness to the east.
I am working only half a day and will spend the afternoon in conversation with fellow writers. I have to say Hoorah for time off on a grey winter day, too.
I saw a crow yesterday, struggling mightily against a west wind. Its big ol' windmill wings were spinning. The season is tough on all of us. Crow could go south where it is warm, but he doesn't. He wants to be here at that first moment of spring when he can find that tasty morsel, a deer's eyeball, just thawed.
It's the kind of day you do not want to look too deeply into the greyness - it will take you.
Then I glance to the east and the sky is on fire.
At the south edge of Ripon, there are a pair of crows at the top of a bare tree, Mr. and his dark Mrs.
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