Snow.
Snow.
And ... more snow.
Who can complain about this extravagant display of beauty that meets every glance?
(Those who operate the family snow shovels, that's who.)
After extended stinginess on my part toward piggish starlings
and warlike sparrows, the bird feeders are filled and busy again.
“Come now, and let us reason together,” saith the Lord.
“Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;
though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."