Dreams of sunny days.
Really fluffy birds eating last year's crab apples, because they're the only meal within reach.
I shoveled my way to the front door again this afternoon. I haven't seen my bike in days. Roof edges look like a unicorn's closet (think horns). My newly sprouted tomatoes are cowering in fear by the ice-laced window. The pea seeds outside are likely dead, frozen pellets now. But I'm OK with all this. Nothing's on fire and when the sun finally hits and the last of the snow melts away, this place is going to be a shade of green that we haven't seen in a long, long time.
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