On a recent Sunday morning, I couldn’t find Jim in the house when I was looking for him. Then a movement out the back window caught my eye. There he was, bundled up and out in the snow, pruning the apple tree. I hadn’t heard him go out to the yard.
So I did a little peeking of my own and captured him in action.
From inside the warm house, I enjoyed the voyeuristic pleasure of a job well done.