The sky is pale blue. It is just gone 4pm, it is so cold, that as we rode along the roads (inadvisable in the extreme, I was talked into it, and Archie, who is no relation whatsoever to Christopher Dean, had a terrifying time of it) I noticed every ditch, filled with solid, glittering, Snow Queen worthy, Ice. But the joy of it is, the sky is pale blue, it is not dark.
When the days start to stretch out, the precious seconds are so much more important than the extravagance of the lengthening evenings after the equinox. It isn't dark! My little bantams are still scratching around in frozen straw! The sky is pale blue!
And I must introduce you to our newest team member. I will tell you his story another day, but for now, in a really Christmassy sort of way, he just arrived:
This is Morse. The sky is pale blue, and Morse is here. Life is funny, isn't it?
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