![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh45t7ELhDvCmRXFvAM9rVdc2wIW4RPHKL7SfyCxdvqtf_8dv_33-6UjGvceJrVrcZ5NSjglz6wbVVE35VL_8W7k7BpHZrLEkA0WHKNK3E8E1L2qhqWvGh7Z5IBZi1VUF1RhAtA/s320/Novemberfrostleaves.jpg)
"I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds."
—Psalm 9:1
I awake to the low rumble of the furnace as it heats the house. I wander in the dawn darkness as the wife and child slumber. The outside thermometer reads 25.2° F. The ground is laced in white frost. The birdbath is frozen solid, chickadees trying to drink after they have taken black sunflower seeds from the feeder. I put my shoes on, go outside, and fill the birdbath with hot water. It steams. I am thankful for my family, for food and good beer, for shelter and warmth, for relatively good health, recent events notwithstanding.
No comments:
Post a Comment