< Back
Date
The days are getting colder and the nights are getting longer.
The birds don't fly across the sky in masses anymore and the sunset is a cold red.
The wind is icy. It makes my eyes water and my nose turn pink but I don't mind. I've always preferred the cold even though it makes me ache. It's a good kind of ache.
It's all over your body and it takes your mind off any other pain you may be experiencing. I like that feeling.
The cold winter often brings harsh winds. Which make my head pound and my hair fly rampant but I don't mind.
Winter doesn't often bring snow on the ground. Not here.
It sometimes leaves a frost on the grassy paddocks.
But the frost is always gone before the sun is high.
Winter turns the sun's golden shine into a cold glare.
It doesn't warm the dirt anymore. It just watches coldly from its post.
Winter often brings fire alive. As people desperately try to warm their homes. The golden flame of the fire taking the role of the now cold sun.
Winter is often described as cold. But I think it's the warmest season of all. It shines light in the darkest places and thought the sky turns grey and the sun turns white; the cheeks and noses of children on the street turn pink.
The loungeroom turns a glowing red with the flickering reflection of the fire.
The breath of people late at night and early in the morning shows like smoke coming out of their mouths. It shows that they're living. You can see the air they breathe. That's why I like winter.
Because I've never felt so alive.
The birds don't fly across the sky in masses anymore and the sunset is a cold red.
The wind is icy. It makes my eyes water and my nose turn pink but I don't mind. I've always preferred the cold even though it makes me ache. It's a good kind of ache.
It's all over your body and it takes your mind off any other pain you may be experiencing. I like that feeling.
The cold winter often brings harsh winds. Which make my head pound and my hair fly rampant but I don't mind.
Winter doesn't often bring snow on the ground. Not here.
It sometimes leaves a frost on the grassy paddocks.
But the frost is always gone before the sun is high.
Winter turns the sun's golden shine into a cold glare.
It doesn't warm the dirt anymore. It just watches coldly from its post.
Winter often brings fire alive. As people desperately try to warm their homes. The golden flame of the fire taking the role of the now cold sun.
Winter is often described as cold. But I think it's the warmest season of all. It shines light in the darkest places and thought the sky turns grey and the sun turns white; the cheeks and noses of children on the street turn pink.
The loungeroom turns a glowing red with the flickering reflection of the fire.
The breath of people late at night and early in the morning shows like smoke coming out of their mouths. It shows that they're living. You can see the air they breathe. That's why I like winter.
Because I've never felt so alive.