It seems so gray here. The trees are all but bare, the sky is leaden with chilly clouds, the vibrant grass is fading. Winter is on its way. But yet, there is beauty! As I was scrubbing up some potatoes for supper I looked out the east-facing window above the kitchen sink. What I saw took my breath away:
The slate gray clouds were lined with peachy-pink as the setting sun kissed them good night: The sky was a swirl of coming cold and warm memories of summer. The hill was a rumpled quilt of tarnished bronze: bright red-gold metal where the sun was hitting the barren trees and purple-black where the folds of the hill lay shadowed. The light tan of the freshly mowed field was interrupted only by the neighbors dog, leaping and jumping as he had just been let out for the night.
If I remember to have eyes to see, I'll not miss the gift of beauty that is given each and every day!
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