The things I like best about winter are my cozy black Damart tights and top. They’re warm and sleek. And, I like the silence of the snow and the way it has mounded up in the apple leaves like scoops of sugar in little cups. I could love it if my eyes were burning green and gold, but they’re not. They’ve changed to grey.
For the rest; the grey cold fits my mood internally and externally. This weather is such a contrast to last year on this same day in late October. Then the world held promise sparkling like the visions of a child but now it exists just to be dealt with.
Winter: dull and chilling, or cold and invigorating; we wait to see. Hope holds fast as frosty breath breaths white clouds over a garden outlined in white. And soul and spirit wait patiently yet fearfully like tulip bulbs beneath the soil planted in spite of the danger of being consumed and brought to extinction over the long bleak months of winter. Will they be there to bloom in May?
a light dusting begins the day
creates lace and
adding mystery (and misery) to dark interiors.
Is this some kind of joke?
winter’s cold touch reaches my heart.
Angel in the dust