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."