Yesterday was a glorious winter day—sunny, bright, and warm with a hint that spring might be on the way. Before making soup for our supper and doing a bit of decluttering down cellar, I headed outside to see what was going on in the backyard. The weather was so warm—at least to this Mainer—that no gloves were needed. Or wanted.
Immediately, I was struck by the shadows on the snow.
The broad sweep of blue grey, in the shade, at the far end of the yard,
the wisp of a tiny evergreen tip that had fallen into the snow,
the solid square of the bird feeder favored by the cardinals,
the hook for our hummingbird feeders, tucked down cellar until late spring,
the bulky outline of trees punctuated by the slim slats of the fence at the edge of the woods,
and finally me, with a wave of my hand, to blogging friends near and far.