Earth and sky mirror each other today, both painted in flat shades of gray and white. Yesterday's sharp wind that whipped my face and sucked the breath right out of me has gone to wherever the wind goes, leaving behind just enough snow and ice to make a walk interesting.
Rows of pointy icicles hanging from the rocks make the bluff across the road look like a
giant mouth getting ready to chomp down on something juicy, while the drips refreeze below in
impossibly fragile curving shapes--fountains or cascades or ampersands.
Below the cliff, fungi inhabit a tree stump, while up above a red-tailed
hawk circles and then perches not far from its treetop nest. After a
vigorous tromp through the snow, I'm ready to find my perch--but not in
the treetops. Time to go inside and warm up by chomping down on some hot spicy chili.