Looking out the window I see a sea of white. The trees have lost their glisten, but the subtle breeze moves the bare limbs to a sound only they can hear. Cars go by slowly and the smell is light. If I walked out into the day I would find a chill in the air just enough to remind me that spring it is not. As the life below the surface hibernates, I feel a sense of renewal forming. Where my life is headed only One knows. What my life will be only One can tell. But to live it, each day, is my gift. Just a few days ago, an ice storm descended upon Bound Brook, and I couldn't help but to capture a little of it. It was as if everything were inside the truck of the ice cream man. Each branch, each twig, each trunk looked dipped in sugar. The pictures I captured do not in any way do the view justice, but I hope you enjoy them anyway.
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