A flowering plum in my backyard (from last spring). This is, essentially, the only living thing out there, since we recently had a pool put in and our sprinkler system decimated.
It's bitterly cold these days in Southern California (down into the low-thirties at night) and windy as often as not. We've had cold Santa Anas more often, and for longer stretches, than I can ever remember. Neither the cold nor the wind is a happy-making thing.
In the next few days, I will get back to writing. I have a short story and a know-it-all-ish bit of advice on writing dialogue waiting patiently for me to get around to completing them.
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