The pond is frozen.
The New River Valley has finally taken a plunge into the deep freeze of winter. The fickle sun brightly beckons me outside but the thermometer sitting on 8 degrees over rides the urge to walk about. Only a walk to the bird feeders and baths today.
I spent the past few days of snow and frigid temperatures reading an exciting novel set in the 1700’s and marveling at the ability of the characters to survive winter in the Scottish Highlands without the modern conveniences of my world.
My lights are still on, the house is warm and the refrigerator is humming. Only the logs burning in the fire and a respect for nature’s fury connect me with my own ancestors from that century long ago.