The blustery wind is making the temperature at least thirty-two, although it’s sunny out. So, there are tiny flakes blowing around outside my window, periodically gathering to form a white mist that shoots across the road and through the trees. There’s nothing like a cup of Apple Cinnamon hot tea on a day like this, when the wind seeps through the cracks in the windowsill and doorstop, chilling me.
Last stop of the day: commun
ity Christmas Cantata. They’ll be singing part of The Messiah. A perfect day.
Advertisements
