There is no escaping beauty. Sometimes it explodes in front of your face when you least expect it, like this morning when I stepped out onto the back patio and beauty flooded the sky from horizon to horizon.

There was the snow covered log, bobbing on the pond, the roll of wire turned into a work of art by yesterday’s snow, and the wooden bridge made soft and woolly by a blanket of soft snow.

Nestled away in the chicken coop, two month old chicks are in that awkward stage where at times they look like scruffy old buzzards instead of the little princesses they are.