While The Garden Sleeps
While the garden sleeps outside through the chill of winer, even the thick blanket of snow cannot keep the color away. It comes on the feathers of the birds that frequent the feeders outside me desk window. It comes in the brilliant sunset reflected in the windows in front of the house. It comes in the palette of paint I use to capture the beautiful creatures that share this quiet winter morning with me.
I relish this slow time of year, when the only responsibility I have to the garden is to keep the feeders full of seed and suet and hay for the wild rabbits that live in the back. They repay me we with their visits and song. it is sublime.