I forgot to say a happy birthday yesterday to my dear friend and wonderful author, Liz P. Happy birthday!
The view from my window today is frosted. There is a sort of icy fog outside and it clings to the branches of the trees and makes the sky as white as the snow covered ground. There are tracks and trails that lead up to the water where the creatures came during the night for a drink. All is still, except for the sound of a train in the distance rattling along the cold iron tracks. Winter.