I rate the look of the bayou above the look of an overgrazed plain in winter, but can anything match a field of grass blooming in the wind?
Can anything match a reddening Midwestern oak, several stories tall?
The cypress in Louisiana could observe themselves in their mirror, the bayou, if they had eyes.
After 21 years, I still sometimes prefer the mountains from afar, as I saw them on the plane from New Orleans, a zigzag of white.
The cold follows us:
frost in Louisiana,
corn snow on our deck
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I bet it’s good to be home.
Yes, except for the high of 16 degrees today. The snow is beautiful, but yesterday it occurred to me that Todd had cleverly scheduled his surgery to avoid all shoveling.
Now that’s thinking ahead.