It was a slow day today. It was a day of quietness, of a kind of softness that only arises from perfectly ordinary domesticity. The snow came this morning, popping out of nowhere to replace the melting snowfall from a few days ago. It left at around noon, hurrying away and leaving behind a stark memory; snow has always reminded me of a scorned lover in that way. Anyways, I watched a few movies on my computer while I sat in front of the Christmas tree, and then at around 4:00 pm I went about the process of baking miniature pies that for some reason or another have earned themselves the title of "cookies". I had to race out to the car to grab my recipe book (I had forgotten it on the front seat when I had gone grocery shopping), and I was struck by the satin feel of the light. The sun was just setting so the sky was a wonderful array of fresh pinks and blues, and when this combined with the stillness of the snow my yard was utterly transformed. The cold swirled to meet me, but it wasn't the bitter kind of cold that I would expect from a frosted winter's day, but more the kind which rushes to meet you in a dizzy of familiarity.
the below photos are from yesterday's adventuring