Goodbye, running shoes, and hello, ski boots! It’s the sparkle season.

Winter days like this one – twenty degrees, dazzling light, new-fallen snow in exquisitely formed flakes – embody the season’s perfection. No need to worry about battling weeds in the garden. With the woods’ closed-in canopy dispersed, mountain ridges luminescent with frosty snow shimmer all around our horizon.

At the moment, we’re not hemmed in by the endless varieties of ice or gray, falling sleet. Our cheeks glow with exercise and merriment. The girls are home, and pie warms in the oven. These clear days open up our horizon. Chickadees dart from the apple tree.

The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow…

Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

– Wallace Stevens

Backyard Skiing in Woodbury, Vermont