There are trees behind my house. Not many, not a forest, and they do not all belong to me (do any trees really belong to anyone?), but they are there. Right now their branches are weighted down with small amounts of snow. Set against the cold gray sky, their profiles are like that of jagged hands jutting upward in an attempt to clear the clouds and the gloom. One such tree, the tallest of the group by far, still has tiny leaves upon its highest branches and when you combine high set foliage with moisture and with freezing temperatures and with wind, you get something very beautiful. The branches swayed back and forth, as they always do, but this time the sun broke free of the clouds and its light reflected off of tiny bits of ice that had formed atop the tree. The movement highlighted this fact, as the ice sparkled in the sunlight like diamonds.
I thought it was something I should share with someone. But the wife is away at work and the boy is visiting a friend, at whose house he slept over, so I enjoyed it alone. Until I felt something resting on my lap.
Oh, why not? I thought.
So together, Gizmo the dog and I stood at the window and stared at the tree in silent appreciation.
Well, I stared at the tree in silent appreciation. I’m pretty sure Gizmo was looking for squirrels.
If that was in fact what she was looking for, she was disappointed, as no squirrels were out running about today. But I enjoyed it, that shared moment with my dog.
Legendary blues singer Etta James has passed away. I can’t sum up in words how much she will be missed, so here:
Just a reminder, I’m still updating my fiction-themed Tumblr, albeit sporadically. I try to at least throw a quote or two, or links to articles, up there every now and again that I feel might help other writers. Or at least ones I feel have helped me in some way.
I’m going to eat my lunch, clean the house a bit, and maybe do a bit of reading before the wife gets home.