Sly old winter, you arrive, red and gold, with the promise of air fragrant with woodsmoke, ripening pears and crisp apples. Blank spiral notebooks herald new beginnings and unlimited possibilities. The blue twinkle of Christmas lights and freshly fallen snow promise peace on earth and there are hints of happiness behind the yellow glow of the windows in my small town.
The cold deepens, and slanting light across frozen fields flares, a bright splash, before plunging us into an early darkness. The moment is too beautiful, too brief.
Winter sears and chafes. Icy drafts seep through windows and doors. Every step is perilous and slick with danger.
Winter, so reluctant to leave this place, grudgingly loosens its grip one small irredescent drop at a time.
For John.
Posts
Oh, Carol--that is just splendid! Lovely words, drip-drop images--perfect!
ReplyDeleteThat was absolutely beautiful! The one photo especially-the last one,Carol-it was the best ever! Could so feel the story.
ReplyDeleteMike ~ My thanks!
ReplyDeleteRain ~ Thank you. I am so glad you and Mike (as Mainers!) understood it so thoroughly.