WINTER SONG

Of Our Contented Discontent

The Wood from a window on the third floor looking out on the headwaters of the St Jones River…

Winter Song

It was the very grayest winter he could remember. A silver-gray pall cloaked the peninsula as if we were peering up from beneath the heavy drape of an old and overused paint splotched drop cloth. With temperatures creaking along feeling ten degrees or more below what they actually had risen to, the day ebbed into an early twilight.

Blizzard of 2010 looking south on State Street crossing Loockerman…

Delaware River from Washington Crossing Bridge…

Note: As the sands through the hourglass so are the short days of Winter…