I just finished reading Sarah Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan. It is a very plain book, indeed. But something written in the book struck me. It is Sarah’s view of winter.

“We can draw sparkling pictures and we can see our breath in the air. Papa builds a warm fire, and we bake hot biscuits and put on hundreds of sweaters.”

I miss seeing winter (or anything) that way. It is all shoveling and black ice to me now.