This morning is still and cold. I woke early and headed straight out of the French doors onto the balcony to admire the view.
It's a familiar view, a treasured view. A view that lifts my spirits no matter how low they may have fallen. High above the village, the wind bent bows on the hillsides are silent and still, covered in a dusting of overnight snow. Even when the dawn has broken, the moon lingers on in the still, blue sky. And the surrounding peaks are struck with the golden early morning light.