Stillness and winter. Intermittent and distant traffic along the Crowsnest Highway in Canada offers the only false tone. Today a baby bird’s song–way too early–along with raptors voicing joy in snowmelt that bares rodent tunnels. Evenings and mornings fill with coyote song–shortly followed by our hounds’ response and perhaps the belling tone of a wolf. Icicles drip and plop as temperatures rise to mid-30s. Winter goes on here for about 2 months longer than many expect. So I take a cue from wily whippet Connor, our rockhound who climbs to see what’s on the other side.
Now back to editing FORGED IN MIST, book 2 of MISTBORN CHRONICLES.