This afternoon, as I was staring out the window at the beautiful snowflakes falling down, I stirred my cappuccino in my mug. My spoon was clinking against the glass. I had forgotten how much I enjoy that sound. I kept stirring just to hear that little noise. It's a good thing my husband wasn't home or he would have been annoyed.
Snowflakes continued to fall. I took my cappucino over to the other window and stared out at the thing blanket of white everywhere.
I noticed my pumpkins still out on my porch. Some beginning to rot. My pet peeve. They looked out of place sitting out in the snow and I was mad at myself for not throwing them out like I was going to last weekend. I thought to myself, in a perfect world, my pumpkins would be fresh and there wouldn't be snow falling the day before Thanksgiving.
But I don't live in a perfect world. No matter how hard I try.
Then I began to notice how nicely the snow sat on top of the pumpkins around the stem. As if it was suppose to be there all along.
I sat my cappuccino down and grabbed my camera. I stepped outside in the cold, brisk air. Snowflakes were falling into my hair as I snapped a few picture of my snow covered pumpkin.
I was no longer mad at myself for not throwing my pumpkins out last weekend.
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