It seems that February has returned Winter to its rightful place. After January lured us out to balmy sunshine, she crept in and sent us clamouring for hats and coats and cups of warm anything. And you, my spry, chirping little Wren, would happily forgo breakfast for the chance to chase the chill, oblivious to your warm wild breath whirling and swirling like a swarm of fairy bees. And as you go about the merry business of berry-picking and acorn-stomping, Momma clutches warm chamomile and shivers at your heels chiding, five more minutes, my love, from behind chattering teeth. You’re keeping me limber – on my toes and on my knees. You’re keeping me awake. Aware. Amazed. And I’m reminded that behind everything we see, hear, smell, taste, and touch, there is still more. And for that, I love you all the more.