Finally some quiet. The wind died down during the night and all is calm. There are sculpted snowbanks in the front yard, a frozen ocean of waves hardened into rock by the dropping temperature.
Scott was watching a live concert by rock guitarist Joe Bonamassa last night, so I climbed into bed to listen to CBC radio podcasts and was asleep early for a change. It’s not that I dislike JB’s music but that it doesn’t hold my attention enough to sit staring at the screen while he makes it.
These earlier nights are something to aspire to, though I’ve always been a night owl. Earlier nights mean earlier mornings, preferred to later risings. Why, it’s only nine o’clock and I’ve already had toast and two mugs of coffee and a bit of time with Scott before he went out to start his truck, take food to the barn for the cats, and drive over to South Forks (the family compound!) to help his brother feed and water the cattle. The day lays long and welcoming before me.