An open door says, “Come in.”
A shut door says, “Who are you?”

Shadows and ghosts go through shut doors. . .

~Excerpt from “Doors,” by Carl Sandburg

There’s a holiday feeling in the house with my youngest here, and the morning energy is cheerful. I sort through many many of my photos, inspired by a call for submissions of artwork on “weather,” and begin to feel quite inspired by the topic. I cull a selection I’m very pleased with. Then, I end up without enough time for a ski, so I take a swim instead. The sun is pouring through windows lighting the interior in interesting ways. With all this snow, and it’s very cold, Frank is missing being in Longboat Key. In the afternoon my daughter wants to go out, so I put on boots and we walk through the snow in the sunlight and cold afternoon. I stop at the brook, appreciating the ice. My foot falls through the ice I can’t see under the snow. I’m wearing my daughter’s boots because my other daughter is wearing my boots, and now I have soaked this boot. Trouble ahead. Nobody likes a soaked boot. But all will be forgiven. The youngest has made homemade Valentine cookies and the house smells exquisitely of butter and baking. A very nice moment of the day: Frank has a break and he and I drive on an outing the bank together where I need to make an international transfer. This is like a date, a time alone to talk about summer plans and travel plans and where we might go next year in February snow.