First Snow

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This morning I peered out the window past Christopher, red-faced and jolly, playing in the snow to our peach tree, just beyond our back-fence line. I thought about how we’ve seen it through all four seasons now: green branches, heavy with fruit; colorful leaves falling until there is no indication that it is a peach tree at all. I didn’t grow up with seasons and I’m still resisting conversion to my northeastern husband’s unabashed love of winter, but my love for our own first little place with our cheerful little children may push me over the edge. Continue reading