There were piles of woolen coats and silk scarves draped lazily over the rocking chair and the ottoman. It was a gentle afternoon with cups of tea and a huge kettle of Cuban rice simmering on the stove and a freshly baked apple cake waiting on the counter.
It might snow buckets for all she knew about her town of Rochester; the city by the lake. A huge flock of black crows flew clustered yet separate in a cold cloud rapidly passing the window; headed off to find shelter from the rain.
They wondered about the ever variegated skies and the lake’s mood as they flapped vigorously against the wind…
690 Saint Paul 