|Brilliant sun and bitter cold|
Good morning people! The sublimating snow is leaving fanciful lace-like spires and icicles. Sticks and stones are revealed like bones from a grotesque injury. We are half past the Hunger Moon and larger animals are very hungry now that winter is in its eleventh hour. But mockingbirds and robins have started to sing.
How can we be so grim when the sun shines so marvelously (although some would say mercilessly)?