In the woods,
All is silent but for the twinkling sounds of falling snow
Flakes descending, like crystals
They are bejeweled with angles that dazzle and delight, so delicate
Each one unique among millions.
And in the woods,
All is quiet but for the sound of my skis sliding across a clean slate of powder
Fresh tracks to follow, fresh tracks to create.
You can almost forget your worries upon waking as the day dawns,
and seeing the glimmering display of nature that makes the world seem new again.
I’ve seen a million sunsets and sunrises, yet each day still dawns with new surprises. As the sun peaks its golden rays over the green mountains, Vermont’s future stretches out with new horizons.
In the fields, there are dustings of flowers like confetti left over from a party, sprinkled over the land so randomly, yet beautiful in their chaos.
The sun, I think is like a friend that you have lost
One that you've drifted so far from, that it is impossible to return
Yet still its light shines on you, so blinding you must look away.
Comments
This is the kind of winter we all daydream about in the summer, before we're in the midst of it. The kind without black-ice roads and a below-zero wind chill and gray slush everywhere -- just a quaint, peaceful, magical hush blanketing everything, snow twinkling in the sunlight. Today, you've reminded me to appreciate the beauty of the season.
Thanks you! I think we all needed a little positivity when it’s raining in January.
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