When you say Winter

I think of the pure, white fallen snow

I think of crunching underfoot,

I think of leaves with a frosted edge.

I think of the sharp smell of ice and the stinging of fingers when you touch it.

I think of the glittering when sunlight shines on the frozen blanket

as if it covers thousands of diamonds.

I think of the dark sky stretching above me,

tiny crystalline drops falling from the clouds.

I think of roaring fires,

Orangle and yellow lights, flickering in the room.

The rich smell of cocoa mingling with the scent of the flames.

I think of windows steaming up,

as cold from the outside meets the heat of the inside.

I think, not of death and of bitter cold,

but of beauty.

Trees lined with white and silver and houses topped with magical icing,

That's what I think of, when you say winter.