DISCOVER Winter optimism THE WIND HAS gently murmured through the blinds, or puffed with feathery softness against the windows, and occasionally sighed like a summer zephyr lifting the leaves along, the livelong night.
We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter morning. Silently we unlatch the door, letting the drift fall in, and step abroad to face the cutting air. This pure, stinging cold is an elixir to the lungs, and not so much a frozen mist as a crystallized midsummer haze, refined and purified by cold. The recent tracks of the fox or otter, in the yard, remind us that each hour of the night is crowded with events, and the primeval nature is still working and making tracks in the snow. Opening the…