No sleigh bells ring ting tingled, but the seat warmers were on high, so we were comfy cozy as we turned our station wagon toward Niagara Falls this morning. It had been another leaden dawn, but the falls were emerald against the gray sky, and a glittering layer of ice encased all the bushes and grass on the banks by the rapids. We leaned into the cold, following a path past the places we knew from summer visits and to the foot of the pedestrian entrance for the Rainbow Bridge. Had we had our passports it would have become an international adventure, but instead we promised ourselves we'd be back in warmer days when the chill breeze off the river would be welcome on our walk to Canada.
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