Being that it's the fourth of December, waking up to find snow on the ground should not be a surprise, but this morning it was. Deuce didn't seem to mind, though. He bounded outside when I opened the door and took off at a run up the hill. He'd spotted a buck, almost invisible against the hillside.
Last evening, while The Curse of Oak Island was on television, I looked at my weather apps. I didn't see a thing about snow, hence my surprise. I joined the dog for our morning stroll and the wonderment of every snowfall seeped into my awareness.
It also struck me it was a coincidence of epic proportions the current work-in-progress starts out with our ex-lovers getting snowed-in together - another epic coincidence, but hey. I'm writing fiction. Let's just run with it for now. I've always wanted to name my little slice of the planet. My mother always called her home Tranquility Hill. Not exactly fitting for my small estate. As Deuce and I meandered in and out the lane, at a snail's pace so he could sniff and do all his dog things, it struck me. Five Holly Manor.
Five Holly Manor. There were no holly trees planted on the property. They sprouted and grew on their own, the seeds likely carried in by birds. Maybe just Holly Manor. I'll have to think about that.
This was the best kind of snowfall. No lasting accumulations and no driving hazards. Just a nice dusting of white that highlighted the trees and made my dog happy.
Some days, you can't ask for more.
KC Kendricks
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