The Cold Earth Blues and Hues 

Night so long, howling winds vexatious and loud. Night so cold, the earth covered in blackness and only there the odd industrial grade light throwing off some yellow and whitish glow to show the falling snow. Strange dreams. Try and remember them. They fade as anyone knows. Finally, the firmament begins to lighten so faintly and almost indistinctly. 

But it’s there. What? The hope for day. The sun at least. Light. Evergreens stoic and robust stay green. This is a gift to the eyes and a gift to earth. Read sacred texts. Delve within. Touch the books with the hands. Hold them tight sometimes. There are still clouds. Time will pass. There are four seasons. One must go through each. That is the way of things. Winter frozen and blue, sometimes seemingly unforgiving. 

One day spring will smile through rain and the idea of blooms again. Find us eventually in the summer after, the meadow mystical and those trails and oh the birds loquacious and agile living everywhere. Even that though it was thought it would never end, gives way to autumn and its soul and spirit. See the leaves yellow brown and red fallen and dancing for the winds of those times.