May you get squashed by the snow.
And frost. Oh , the frost!
May every morning be like none you've ever seen.
All eyes be on you.
Contentment and peace.
Cognisant of cheer not forgotten.
Light in the dark of winter day.
Snowbound isolation dreams.
When the Lion comes forth to roar.
Varied Thrush thrills all. First of those who come for spring.
Leaves crunch like Crispy Crunch bars.
And there. Far. Mountains loom. With great blank eyes.
And She. Princess of her realm. White as snow; treads carefully.
Christmas is all but distant.
Sun finds Spencer . Or is it, Spencer finds Sun.....
Snow havens reach long and low.
Fire burns. Solemn friend.
Quiet folds the night. As the Year New journeys on.....
"For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice. And to make an END is to make a BEGINNING." - T.S.Eliot (1888-1965)
Photography: M. McConachie Woods 2017
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