Day Eight: Death to Adverbs

I look out of my dining room window, I see little wisps of snow falling from the sky, they melt in the air, before they can touch the ground. The branches are swaying in the wind. The street outside is wet, showing no definitive sign of rain or snow.

The sky is gray, not the usual blue, with rays of sunlight streaming through. I get up, walk a few steps, cross the living room and open the door to the porch. I hear the wind whistling through the trees. The backyard has a sprinkle of Ponderosa pine trees and aspen trees with a picket fence around it.

A little muddy path that runs across the back yard has a sprinkle of snow, so do the white, limestone rocks that line the path. The path leads all the way up to the picket door. The view of the door is obstructed by a huge green trampoline with a net around it, patches of snow are visible here and there.

A little paper soccer ball is bobbing along with the wind. It hangs on the branch of a pine tree in the middle of the yard. It is strong and resilient, since it has weathered the rain, snow, sunshine and wind since last summer. From a distance, it could be a piñata or a paper lantern. I realize, it is you can be strong, resilient and yet fragile and delicate, all at the same time!