Flaky, bleached powder is drifting in slow motion down to the freezing brick sidewalk; like shredded cotton dropping from the heavens in blissful silence.
The nip of the air is bitting at my nose and fingers as I quickly shove them into my plaid coat pockets, generating a spark of heat.
The snow that we all hoped and dreamed for in the early days of December is finally here; a welcome activity and spark of color to the dreary bleakness of winter.
Though the whole world isn’t covered in this picturesque whiteness, it is an endearing contrast to the stark brown of last autumn’s companions.
A little white doggy, not your own but a nearby neighbors, tittups along the snow fallen ground and after a few minutes rambling, with his nose in the powder, whines pathetically at the door, begging you to please let him into the circle of warmth the house is offering.
A couple more clicks of the shutter speed, then telling yourself it is much to nippy to be out and about, and reluctantly tearing yourself away from the beauty, you trudge back indoors, perhaps a hot cup of cocoa awaiting or maybe a warm cuddle with a book in your inglenook by the wood stove.
These are February days in the rolling hills of Tennessee, not grand in sense of the word, but truly enjoyable with elementary earnestness.