kingquagmire1

Walk in the cold. Quietly. Listening to the sudden sounds that crack the silence that surrounds you. Frost slowly falling from the trees as well as the sky. Catch one in your hands. One in a million. And stare at the crystal patterned flake that melts within the warmth of your hand-made knitted gloves. Look up. Stare yonder at nature's blanket. Inviting you to create. Not a splash of colour upon the canvas you stand upon. Tress and Bushes decorated with natural clouds that have fallen. As if all no longer exists but the local robin that flies by every hour or so. Rub your hands together while the cold winter breath you breathe wa