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Jewel Fried

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From my window I see a beautiful day.  Perfect blue skies, the pines stand absolutely still.  They hold their breath; not a branch moves.

Paper white snow hides last summer’s grass and surrounds the base of the pasture tree.

Cattails peak their brown fuzzy heads out of the snow, waiting for life.

The rock out-cropping sleeps under their blanket, the porch wind chimes dances in tiny circles in an endless dance.

Hues of brown and white paint the landscape, the bright red Christmas lights hug the porch columns, offering their color.

The lone birdhouse sways endlessly—its bright yellow color shinning in the sun.  Bright daylight now crossed with long shadows of afternoon.

My room is warm and inviting.  I can hear the fireplace crackle from the stairwell.

From my perspective the day is beautiful and picturesque The frigid air does not affect me.  This is my winter day.