White World Shining

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Yesterday's walk took me past evergreens with fondant-icing snow caps and bent trees aching with ice but still lovely in their brokenness. In the sky was a wan half moon with V’s of blackbirds flying.

Nature consoles even as it wounds. The forest so deep and white, the trees glimmering in the sun that appeared late enough in the day that I had already resigned myself to snow, fog and cloud cover.

But shine it did, and I had no choice but to pause in my shoveling and writing and editing and  telephoning  — pause to see the white world shining.