Friday night the snowflakes began to fly. . . quietly at first. . . their arrival on tiptoes. . . and then heavier and heavier. . .
And we awoke to a snow-covered little village. . .
Sleepy under this soft white blanket. . .
We all awoke together. . .
I poked my head into Luke's room to say good morning, and found him peeking out his window. . .
I peeked out with him (his bed is the perfect place to just lay and watch the backyard). . . and soon Jack joined us, and we watched together. . .
the birds. . . flying from branch to branch on the growing apple tree. . . flying from the birdfeeder to the apple tree. . . and back again. . . happily. . .
And happily we watched. . . until our bellies grumbled for breakfast [a chocolate chip pancake morning]. . . a perfect way to start our morning . . . sweet moments together . . .