I hook Booker to the leash. He prances, and wiggles, and converses in Siberian husky “speak.” Our daily jaunts mean more to him than food…unlike certain @#$% cats. Oops. I wanted a clear head and happy heart.
The ground, frozen, waits for snow. You would think a biege landscape would be ugly, but no. Hoarfrost delicately outlines grass, leaves, and twigs. The crystalized world around me is breathtaking and magical. It’s as though Ma Nature, bored, found her glue gun, an extra large jar of glitter, and got busy.