I don't like being cold. When I took my dogs out this morning, the thermometer read 9 below. It made me think that bears have the right idea: just curl up and sleep until it's all over.
And yet, there is a certain beauty in that incredible cold. Tough tiny goldfinches flit around my thistle feeder. Frozen imprints of last night's deer outing create a path through my snow-covered yard. Each branch of each tree is outlined in white as if by an artist's paintbrush. It is truly magnificent. Especially when viewed from my couch, curled under a blanket while reading a book and sipping coffee. That's my version of hibernation.
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