The late afternoon dims—subdued by opaque particles of white drifting through the air. Like the snow, my mind wanders. Winter’s austere beauty leaves its impression, yet I long for spring. For awakening. For the appearance of buds peeking shyly from the ground;...
The tantalizing scents of yeast and baking bread beckoned to me. Still bleary-eyed from sleep, I padded from the guest room to the dimly lit kitchen and surveyed the room. A large silver mixer stood on the counter, its dough attachment spinning vigorously as Gracie...