a catalogue of small beauties

the wind and air currents in our neighborhood are conspiring to toss little snow pixies up against the window above the desk. I'm imagining them as tiny winged creatures frolicking their hearts out. 

it's a snow day. no classes. no going anywhere. just snow: sparkly and white, soggy and slushy underneath. 

I do hope this is the last big winter storm. for weeks it has seemed that spring is just minutes away... but the mornings are still often freezing, the wind biting and fierce, the sunsets rather early. 

I've been wanting to blog about small but satisfying contrasts from recent days. I don't know how long the list will be, but anything I find inordinately beautiful or strikingly lovely will get added to it. 

in no particular order: 

flecks of black pepper, scattered across the whites of a fried egg. 

sap frozen into drippy, globby icicles all around the scabby trunks of pine trees.

thick ribbons of sweetened condensed milk folding softly, meltingly against each other in a bowl.

perfect avocado slices fanned out across crumbly homemade toast.

cold, bare tree branches (or window sills, or fences, or mailboxes, or sidewalk railings) lined with defiantly high, narrow piles of snow.

walnuts chopped into uneven pieces-- craggy nubs, random slivers, and grains of walnut dust.

woven wicker baskets of varying colors, stacked up in the corner, waiting for me to organize yarn and crafts into them.

mismatched but mostly coordinating pillowcases squashed together with their pillows at the head of the bed.

clean blank notebook paper, but with crisp little doodles-that-turned-out-quite-nicely along the edges.

gently twinkling strand lights against the dark wood of the kitchen cabinets. 

pale scented wax (passion flower & citrus, in this case) cooling so flat and smooth and solid after the candle warmer is turned off.