All of the blooming camellias will freeze tonight. The wind has blown mightily all through the day: rattling the walls of the house, threatening my peace of mind. Walking outside, Music and I risk the possibility of branches falling. Our warmest coats do not block the penetrating and steady blow. Yet we walked, and I remembered that the open flowers on the enumerable camellia bushes on my brother's hill would be frozen and brown by tomorrow. So I photographed a few, and filled my hands with quite a few more. These will last for a little while longer in my warmish house. They will brighten my days as I live and move in this place I call home, no matter how low the temperature falls outside.