Little Hands

I want to think that somewhere in this world of technological convenience, the software of the heart will have a conversation with the head.

Children live by the rhythms of the smaller universe of the home. Hrecheniuk Oleksi/Shutterstock

The wind this morning is a force to be reckoned with, wildly tossing a mix of freezing rain and snow in all directions. I hear it, pelting at the windows, and whipping over the roof. The regional weather forecast in the Farmer’s Almanac for this week states: “flurries, very cold.” Straightforward, and to the point.

I imagine this is helpful to the farmer, as he pulls on boots at 4 a.m., and heads to the barn to do his chores in the dark.