Happy New Year

I have traded the big sea breaths of sibilant surf for the little creek views of home; frosty, icy, tinkling scenes and sounds. I left behind sea glass and hagstones and sugar beet-strewn sands and now walk silver trails, sugar-frosted, white, crisp, and cold. My gaze is filled with evergreens and twiggy brown branches, my ears filled with the winter songs of jay, crow, cardinal, and chickadee-dee-dee. Home.