A parting glimpse of the boathouse blurred beyond veil of soggy snowflakes. Southwestern sirens are calling me away — by ferry, airplane and rental jalopy — so I leave the homestead in the able care of my bride and my dog for a few days. I’m willing deep drifts of powdery snow upon my return!
By the way, if “snow falling on cedar…” rings a bell, there’s a reason why: an amazing novel, Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson. Read it. You won’t regret it. But don’t waste too much time trying to decipher the similarity between the title I used for this snapshot and Guterson’s. No hidden meaning. Just a descriptive reference to Rosslyn’s boathouse roof which received a new shingle roof a couple of summers ago.
Love the photo and the title of it. Thank you!
Thanks, Bobbi. Miss you and Mark. Hope all’s well!
Hello George,
Very manly photo, compared to my memory of a very young man, hardly more than a boy. Happy New Year to you and yours, Helene
Greetings and welcome, Helene. Not sure how *manly* the photo is, mostly just fuzzy. Or perhaps that the nature of men… A bit fuzzy and out of focus!? 😉 Great to reconnect after too many years. I hope that your year is off to a jolly start. And you can rest assured, I’m still hardly more than a boy. Sometimes hardly that!