"The First Snow of The Season"
I’m sitting at my desk tonight and the snow is falling. It's times like these I'm happy that I work nights. In the stillness you get to see the magic work that takes place in the middle of the night while the rest of the world is sleeping. Its texture is feather soft and its white unblemished surface makes me yearn to trek though it. To trudge out and see what can be seen. There has been a secret part of me that has dreaded the snow all year. Feared its approach; it's icy hand come to take the life of yet another summer. Then I look upon it. Pristine, serine. And like all death I know that it is not the end, merely another begging. I long to wade though its bitterness, test myself against it's unyielding flow and lose my breath in it's beauty. The snow has come but the cold is not bitter. This wind and this weather brings me vigor and hope. Snow comes and goes, and what is left in it's passing is what survives. Stand firm then friends. Let not the icy wind sway you to turn to more temperate places or a warmer fire. Stand. Weather in the wood, on the shore, or the open plain. Stand, breath, endure.
~Dross~
