In my new studio I look out my window and see a pristine layer of snow covering the yard below me. Three fir trees of diminishing sizes line the fence to the right: tall, medium, small. In the corner where the fences meet, stands the skeleton of a deciduous tree, about 40 feet high with branches reaching 20 feet wide. Possibly a Northern Catalpa or a maple variety (hopefully orange), it will introduce itself to me in the spring.

Fat fluffy snowflakes have morphed into salt shaker specks that keep refreshing the white blanket covering the yard. It’s so quiet.