It is January – cold, stripped-down, battened-down January. Not a lot to look at outside my window: the trees are brooms. The roofs are crusted with dirty snow and a gaggle of dingy grackles. Grit from sand and salt coats the… Read More ›
It is January – cold, stripped-down, battened-down January. Not a lot to look at outside my window: the trees are brooms. The roofs are crusted with dirty snow and a gaggle of dingy grackles. Grit from sand and salt coats the… Read More ›