My, how time does fly. They, whoever "they" may be, say time is a river. It feels now more like a wind, a storm, that rushes along, and like some magic spell, carries one from place to place, memory to memory without an intervening connectivity. Ah, but no long speaking about time. Let time be today.

No great long post this morning. Dim outside, a few badly needed shreds of winter hiding the sun. I hope, for the sake of the land, there is more to come. We are short here in the west, while the east continues to be pummeled by storm after storm. Snow in Atlanta. It will be a cold day and all that.

I am re-watching Game of Thrones. I do enjoy the writings and the complexities of plot. I also enjoy any book or series where the moral lines are blurred. The relativity of good and bad depending on one's position in the game. Very close to real life I think.
Ah, but breakfast, a late one albeit, does call and my stomach growls.

Dear readers, and I hope there are more than a few of you, I bid you good morn.

CPM