The best part of winter: Coming in from a walk in the rain to toast by the fire in the company of critters.
Last winter was so warm and dry that we didn't often even bother lighting the wood stove. There really was no reason to. Oh, such a difference this year! After four years of drought, there is no sweeter sound than the patter of drops on the roof, the rush of water through the gutters and the distant roar coming up from the seasonal creek at the bottom of the hill.
On a stormy evening, Bruce and I will go out a dozen times just to revel in this miracle that's falling from the sky.
Back inside, we've got this.
|The aptly named Max|