It was more April than January. Forty five, sunny. Greg and I walked the trails of Wildwood, came to the clearing, and sat, our faces turned to the warm sun. The weak January sun shining down low in the sky, spreading it's warmth over the winter grass. I can't explain it--when December is a deep freeze and January is a thaw, when the new year rings in with thunder, when the white outside my window is fog, anything can happen.

A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others it that it makes them kind themselves.
~ Amelia Earhart