Winter in Watercolours

I didn't try to document yesterday's party but the sunset was too good to ignore:

I never get tired of that view, even though it's only ten paces from our front door.

July in January

I've got a cold that went straight to my chest -- will this never end? -- but am feeling happy regardless. I just went out in the backyard to feel the warmth of the sun and harvest the bounty our distressingly dry and disconcertingly mild winter has brought us. It took me longer than I'd expected to haul it all in:

I was wondering, as I snaked my hands through the frost-browned top leaves in search of red and gold, whether there really is something to the notion that breathing in the aroma of plants and soil is restorative. My lungs feel a lot better. And my eyes have yet to recover from the delight of so much primary color.