We’ve had another Polar Vortex here in the Bayou State. Schools and businesses are closed, I suppose in reaction to the Atlanta fiasco.

No matter. This girl does not have cabin fever. I got up early to give the bird bread to the precious few winged ones who are still hanging around the house. It’s so quiet when it’s cold. So still. A hush descends on this frazzled world and tells its misguided people, “Slow down, you fools.”

I’ve no complaints about winter. (Don’t say it’s because I’m from the South. Don’t say it!) I was born in winter. I have a winter soul and in the heat of summer, my soul burrows down deep and waits the return of the Old Man.

He’s here, my friends.

A second of my life has whizzed through oblivion and landed on winter. One second, then it’s gone forever. With only a limited number of seconds on earth, I cherish (or at least try to) each one, but most especially the frozen ones. Frozen in time in the folds of my memory. Not to be squandered on wishing for spring.