Winter Is Coming
Winter is Coming.
A stiff wind blows hard across the lake on a late fall day in a fierce way. White caps froth and reflect the sun rays and break them up in a dozen ways. The wind feels cold and drills right through my sweater but the sun burns my face and warms me till I feel better.
I look up at a blue sky speckled with billowy white clouds that remind me of another day years ago when I was younger and full of youthful energy. Before the days of life, reality and responsibility, before the days of sorrow, regrets and old age lethargy.
I smelled the scent of burning wood, wafting through the neighborhood. There are very few things in life that smell so good. Maybe a newborn baby or a puppies breath, morning coffee or fresh baked bread. Maybe a field of lavender or the scent of her hair when you hold her near.
But I digress I must confess because I was thinking about the Fall that comes before the winter mess. The ice, the snow, the sleet will soon be coming. No more burning sun, our bodies numbing. The icy winds and burning fires, shoveling snow our noses running.
After all, winter is coming.
