The sky is brightening and the eastern horizon is tinted with pink. Snow fell on Friday and still blankets the ground. From the kitchen window I watch the early birds, small finches and chickadees, eating at the feeder. They flit from the branches of the evergreens I set up earlier this fall. Five trees form a crescent around the feeder, designed to give the birds protection from the elements and a place to perch as they feed.
In the living room, the windows are painted with the fanciful etchings of Jack Frost; fans and swirls carved in ice crystals on the glass. In the corner is a balsam fir we cut two weeks ago from the "Choppings". Its branches are airy and light leaving lots of room for the dangling ornaments to catch and reflect the glow of the lights.
It is Christmas morning and I'm waiting for Rob to wake up and reflecting on our blessings.
We spent last evening with his some of his family in Riverdale. Tomorrow we travel to Pictou. Today we'll have lunch with Wally, Jen and the kids.
Newman is in the barn crowing. Our flock of hens is giving us between six and eight eggs a day. We're constantly amused by their antics.
I hear stirring upstairs. It's time to start our day...Merry Christmas.
