Sweet just like the Color of a Beet

February wears thin, and our windows are smoked with fingerprints.  Green grass feels distant, cocooned beneath layers of gray.  Somehow a mild winter still makes us hungry for the world outside, as the days are tinged with waiting.  Luckily, we were invited this weekend to our friends’ cozy spot on the Cape tucked near a salt river and the sea, respite from the grind. The weekend felt like a string of contented moments adding up to a song, with every corner of this home curated, beautiful, feasts for winter eyes.  Wooden birds, carved spoons, giant swags of felt, apple seeds.  Children happily lost in mounds of pillows, masks, twisted pines, and the sound of electric tambourines.  Steaming coffee, clinking dishes, cats-eye-marbles – all endless melody, as we crafted lines of matchbox cars, iced yellow cake, caught up, and let all things just be for 48 hours.  There just isn’t better medicine this time of year.