Today started abruptly with me awakening from my second sleep too late and totally unprepared for mu daily duties. A hurried rise, a cat’s ablute and some rather clever regal gymnastics has me back on schedule within the half of an hour and heading towards Moran apace.
Chance had chosen for me a gray plaid to match the weather, well clouded and with steady drizzle falling all around. One of the many blessings I count at every turn is my islands ability to look its best on every occasion, no matter mood or condition. There is an observable beauty in everyone of her many faces, features and expressions that can change literally at the merest whisper of a breeze.
The sky is leaden with a weight of snow that suggests many coming inches, but I doubt the precipitation will in reality mount to much of an inconvenience at all. Whatever surprises tomorrow afternoon brings I will make it my duty to stumble in some direction or other, white days are few and far between this far south and must be savored like the rare and precious offering they are. My snow boots await sentry like at the portal, wearing what might be supposed a broad smile of expectation.