Sniff the air

When I stuck my nose out the back door yesterday, the air was sharp with cold. I caught a lingering drift of woodsmoke from a chimney. White snow glittered on the deck, and the dry, frigid air smelled like it had been scrubbed clean, like every particle of moisture and pollen and dust had frozen … Continue reading Sniff the air

Too much to see

I sat at the kitchen table with my journal, and when I looked up, I saw hand prints on the glass door, horizontal lines of blinds, square pattern of tiles, vertical lines of the fence.  There were shoes strewn about on the porch, trikes parked haphazardly, toys littered everywhere.  If I turned my eyes back … Continue reading Too much to see