Summary
In the hour before dawn, the house is quiet save for the whirring of an overhead fan. Even in January, it is a ritual we hang onto. The extravagance of air circulating throughout the night. A habit born decades ago in another part of the world where snow was barely a word in the local vocabulary and ice but a luxury. When the furnace kicks on, I get up in the dark, anticipating that stolen hour when the world is still new.
Though it is not yet 6 a.m., I am fully awake. Moving about without light, I bundle up in my vintage Indian blanket robe, prepare a coffee with steamed milk and head for the warming room with my reading glasses and latest novel. Over the next hour, I disappear into the book's pages, warmed by the coffee and a cat that has heard me and discovered the wool throw covering my lap.See the full content of this document
Extract
Nature's Beauty Shines in Winter
When I finally look up, the dark silhouettes of trees are visible against a pink dawn sky. I see it has snowed in the night, turning Boomerang Creek a powder...
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