It feels like winter

The sky is winter gray, the very color of Mr Gould's roof top that stood straight across from my childhood house. We knew that when the sky matched his roof, snow would fall. The wind is blowing hard to get the last stubborn leaves off the now nearly bare branches. There is a moaning sound by the north windows, wind howling that lonely sort of sound. If feels like winter. Storms last night heralded the arrival of the cold front, temperatures have steadily dropped throughout the day. This very day is perfect for decorating the tree and listen to Christmas music. It feels to me like a holy experience as Ava Maria is being sung by the purest soprano I have ever heard sing on the radio. This day is filled with a quiet peace, a prayerful sort of feeling as if breath I took was in praise.

Life is good.