I hold two, soon to be tangible images, within me.
The sights and sounds while pinning clothes on the clothes line.
The thought of hearing the creek below, wind in the trees, and maybe a moo or two from the lady-cow friends around the bend. It's like a long Christmas Eve.
The crackling, popping sound of wood in the wood stove. The smell of wood smoke in the cool/cold air. I have longed for the wood stove this winter. The old saying, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" sure is true in the instance. Maybe the air will be cool enough in May that we will have to knock off the chill in the house.
|Laundry Fluttering in the Wind by Marc Franz|
|Waiting in storage|