Here I sit by a smoldering fire surrounded by mounds of given gifts and spent wrapping paper, watching birds fly through the clear, pale southern christmas sky. No snow, but a white christmas is a rare enough occasion not to warrant reasonable expectation. Still, what a curious combination of exhaustion and warm contentment. Life is truly sweet, but not so sweet as to become saccarine. May this day live forever in my heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment