Good to the last

I enjoyed this latte at a rustic wooden table in the loving company of Yaz and Chris.

Even at the bottom of the cup, the artistic pattern created by the barista remained whole.

Made me think of life. The soul that enters each body at birth brings its own artistic pattern, an imprint that stays with us for life.

Seems that along with my first view of icicles on our Surrey eaves, these recent snowfalls have made me philosophical.