On a bleak, stormy noisy day my house seems bewildered and lost, as if it had never planned for winter. A grasshopper house! The hail is loud on the roof, the porch is sullen and unwelcoming, so I made more muffins, lit the fire, and put on a few lights even though it is against my religion in daylight hours. The inlet is full of ducks and coots, maybe for the shelter, though they appear to be eating something in the water.
I am playing loud, high-minded music, I am expecting three, maybe four callers, and I plan not to cross the threshold. How insular can you get!