I am curled up on the couch, enjoying the crackle and pop of the fire. Fingers of yellow-orange flames curl around the blackening wood. The burning wood has a pleasant spicy, woodsy scent.
Mollie is lying in the hall watching the water in the river flow by.
The sun has traveled up the mountainside leaving the bottom of the canyon where I am in half light. It is a restful, quiet time.
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