Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening...

Well, not exactly.  Unfortunately, down in the South, we don't get much snow, so my title should be more like "Stopping by Woods on a Brown Winter Morning..."

Not as lovely and poetic, eh?

This morning, Daddy, Lillian and I went for a bike ride on a local river trail.

After eight miles up and down hills, Daddy informed us that his legs "felt like spaghetti noodles."

Reality

The scene was perfect.

Morning light streaming through the window, soft tendrils of steam rising from my cup of freshly brewed green tea with mint and honey.

An enchanting book, a recent gift from a dear friend, a tale of fairies and folk from long ago.

Here I am, the aspiring photographer, attempting to capture the peaceful moment.

But then it hits me. 

Why do I even try?


What reality check have you had this week?