I've been doing a lot of wandering around the farm this past week. The mornings have been frosty, foggy, and sometimes a bit damp. I may procrastinate a bit getting going. My fuzzy robe is, well, fuzzy. And Ed is good about bringing me my latest morning concoction: ginger and mint tea.
But as soon as I pull on my boots and walk out the door, I'm glad. There is always something interesting to see as I make my way down the beehive trail, take the woods' path, circle around the pond, cross the creek at the waterfall, move down the line between our farm and our neighbor's, cut across the drive to the hackberry trailhead, leap across the creek to the upper field, circle back to turkey nest trail, cut through the walnut grove, follow Christmas Tree Lane back to the drive, and head to our front gate, where I always touch the red flag on the mail box before turning around and heading back home.
Not much color to be found. The fields are a hundred shades of muted browns; the early morning skies painted in a palette of soft grays.
But rounding the corner of the front field, something bright caught my eye: a lone December dandelion. Made me smile.