We’ve had a streak of bitterly cold days here.  Cold enough for sleet and ice, brutal enough to make you feel like your face is freezing off when you venture outside…

Cold enough for snow, if only the gods had been smiling down upon my children but alas, no such luck.  Pretty skies that trick you into thinking it’s a nice day only to assault you with a stinging wind that brings tears to your eyes.

Days that make me hide indoors tucked inside the warmest sweatshirt I can find.

Yesterday looked like it was going to be more of the same – gorgeous blue sky, bright sunshine pouring through the windows – but then I went outside.


Yes, there was a breeze, but this time it didn’t bring me to my knees.  It was almost (dare I say it?)…warm.  Instead of tucking my chin into my collar I actually raised my face to the sky, feeling the sun on my skin and smiling.

Birds darted through the air as we drove through the neighborhood.  Large flocks swooping across the sky, pairs chasing each other across the road in front of my car, a handful rising up from the yard to zoom toward the trees.  Robins and cardinals and blue jays and wrens, all dancing in the warm air.

It’s incredible what a difference thirty degrees can make.

My post as part of Colline’s My Gratitude Project.