I will not pretend that I haven't at times envied Marissa her classy situation in the city. But I have learned the hard way to bloom where I'm planted. So, I present to you my Mountain Blooming Efforts.
Yes, I had to catch this. It's too precious to lose. I love stealing a still evening moment like this, because it fills me with endlessly satisfying knowledge that I have made the unforgttable REALLY unforgettable. Take a good look at it; let your breath be taken away. Why does all the world turn
blue on a winter night? One of God's many lovely mysteries.
Yes, I know. It's a picture of a tractor. But it's a nice picture of a tractor. And I get kind of fond of seeing it perched up on the piney hill. Why not take a picture?
This is one of my favorite places in the world. It's where I go to feel as though I've been whisked away to another world (Narnia, perhaps, or Middle-Earth), where there may dwell any sort of people. But for the moment there is only myself for company, and my make-believe silver velvet cloak, and the whisper of falling snow. You could walk on and on if you wanted, rounding the sides of the hills and dreaming to your heart's content, for the universe is so quiet at times such as these that you have no reason whatsoever to think that fairy tales are impossible.
But, of course, there is often as much mud as there is magic. The natural order of things, I suppose.
A dear present from a dear brother. That's an aspen leaf he tucked in the bow. My birthday was in October, so I suppose to many people this is not strictly a winter photo. Where I live, however, Fall and Winter are nearly the same thing. And this picture makes me feel cozy no matter what season it is.
The view through one of the back windows of our house. The picture is somewhat imperfect, due to my careless camera positioning, and, of course, the window screen. But it's a good feeling all the same to see the sunset glow on the rocks, screen or no.
A winter sky.
A winter sky. 
