Via Beatta--the Blessed Way

This may well be a two-part reflection on Christmas in my small family as it is these recent years.  It depends on whether I decide that part 2, which will probably be a bit of a rant, is publishable to the public or better left in the pages of a private journal!  We shall see. Anyway, it is now Saturday, December 28, and I can gaze out the deck doors at the pastoral Colorado scene of mountains (smaller ones as we face west, down valley a bit from the peaks of Vail), snow-covered pastures with cows and horses, and the pond that has been cleared by my eldest son for pick-up hockey games.  A bit to the left is the Eagle River that roars along in the spring but is frozen and quiet today.     The house is elder son's with his wife and my two only grandsons.  It has been a lively three days, but this morning son 2 and I are left to our own devices--along with the two elderly animals.  Son 2 and the 14-year-old chocolate lab are out clearing the pond of last night's dusting

It is a glittery, glimmery morning.  The sun shines on yesterday's pure white snow, making tiny mirrors of the crystal flakes.  All of the lawn furnishings wear matching top hats, and     powder puffs of snow fall from tree branches and dance to the hillside on the breeze.        I look in vain for signs of wildlife.  But only one set of rabbit tracks crosses the patio.  And a circle of the cat's paw prints as she made a feeble attempt to brave this winter morning!  For a beast who lived the first year or more of her life out of doors, she has certainly adjusted to domestic comforts!  Now she is curled up on a bench, gazing quietly out the window.  There are no signs of wanting to play in the snow!      What a difference a bit of sun makes!  Yesterday was drab--the sky an uninterrupted steely gray.  Ugly stalks of summer wildflowers browned, bare black trees.  The only green were the throw rugs of moss on the hillside rocks.  All of those things were the same the day befor