You know you are rich when the browning grass in the back yard glows in gold shimmer on a cold November afternoon.
Being a husky, I am pretty fond of the North winds and lacy precipitation that accompanies this season's change. Some people grumble, huddling tight into heavy sweaters but, for me, a bit of snow is a welcome change. I was made for glazed trails; freezing darkness; blowing snow.
Oh, but that sun! To bask in the gilded honour of light! To revel in the radiant splendor of the orb! The wilted grass turns to skeins of spun gold and cool fur is kissed with the fire of a billion years. Summer is on the wings of a burgeoning Winter. The cold can, and will, spin into gold.
Being a husky, I am pretty fond of the North winds and lacy precipitation that accompanies this season's change. Some people grumble, huddling tight into heavy sweaters but, for me, a bit of snow is a welcome change. I was made for glazed trails; freezing darkness; blowing snow.
Oh, but that sun! To bask in the gilded honour of light! To revel in the radiant splendor of the orb! The wilted grass turns to skeins of spun gold and cool fur is kissed with the fire of a billion years. Summer is on the wings of a burgeoning Winter. The cold can, and will, spin into gold.
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