The winds picked up and the storms blew through and picked the last of her dress away.
Around her feet, tattered it lay.
Though she danced and swayed
She couldn't keep the cold at bay.
So Winter has come to stay.

The frogs and turtles burble in their sleep, buried in the mud before the frost came.
The squirrels chitter on the forest floor. Scurrying through the crunchy leaves to check on their secret stores.
The deer munch the last leaves off the bushes. Their breath coming out in steamy puffs.
It's quiet on these mornings where winter peeks over the horizon. The play of summer has passed. The birds and the beasts set to the business of preparing for the long cold.

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These chill mornings I switch my music over to slower and quieter tunes. Fitting cadence to the slowed down days as I hug my mug closer to keep the warmth to myself. The frost blankets the yard and nips up the bottom edge of the windows.
I move slower these mornings too. Pace myself to the sunrise and waking up as the first rays creep over the hills and slide into our valley.
The kettle boils for my next cup & sometimes I let it go a minute longer to listen to the hiss & gurgle.

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