The snow last night was beautiful.  I took the dogs out to romp in the scant three fluffy inches we received.  I wasn't going to turn on the spotlight, but then decided it would be safer, given the velvety blackness encompassing us like a puffy comforter. 

When the light came on the yard was transformed.  The snow glittered with thousands of crystals catching the light and winking it back to me.  I was in my own personal snowglobe!

I threw the tennis balls for LoraBora, all the while marvelling at the beauty around me.  I wanted to be still and melt into my surroundings but my relentlessly cheerful retriever was having none of it.  We made trails through the snow, like a youngster with her first Etch-a-Sketch: here there everywhere and back and across.  The dog was happy, I was happy.

My bare, pale  feet cold in their brown leather clogs, I turned to persuade the Laprador it was time to return into the house.  It took more than a little persuading, let me tell you!  Eventually, we returned to the warmth of the little brown house in the snow globe, the last errant flakes settling about us.

Blessings abound