Our woods are usually quiet. Except for the frogs and coyotes and occasional bugling elk, it’s really quiet. But when it snows the forest becomes a very special place.
On this date long ago in Ketchikan, Territory of Alaska a child was born. A little beacon of light on the darkest day of the year. She continues to amaze me that she has survived her journey into the dark world of stroke survivor which began in 2009. The doctors told me repeatedly her odds of making it were slim. Yet here she is, still brightening our family’s world with a smile, not a voice. Despite that madness the madness that seems to have us in its grip, there is still goodness in this world. Celebrate it, people.
The ground was covered when we got up at 4 this morning. Been showers off and on all day. Our youngest granddaughter and her dad still found enough to create this diminutive, icy humanoid. With all the insanity these days, it’s nice to see that some things never change.
A cold, dark, dreary day was brightened by our youngest grandchild. We discovered deer and elk tracks, threw sticks and stones in the pond, and splashed in puddles. Both learning new things. Priceless.