Sometimes I wish I lived where snow blankets the world. I love to crunch through the cold drifts, enjoying the beauty of piles of white on bare branches. But how can you beat the cheer of even a small bit of gold?
We may wish some days for colors that someone else looks on. Maybe the next day we’re glad our world looks the way it does. I’m thankful for the soft winter sun, the green that lives next to the stark, bare trees. The blue snatches of the river. And the brave flares of gold.