With a nod of thanks to Good King Wenceslas, the Bible , James Joyce, Dickens and Robert Frost. ( and probably others....)
It has been below freezing since seems long ago,
And cool and crisp and even
could describe these particular dark, short, winter days.
Snow is general all over Saltspring Island:
Our driveway and roads are icy and difficult to negotiate,
The woods filled with that white stuff.
We feel frozen fingers despite the gloves.
Roll on Summer, we say, Humbug,
And watch the woodpile shrink
As we keep the fires burning hot.
How beautiful upon the mountain,
And upon the trees and bushes,
Are the traceries of white.
Blue shadows gather in inky pools
At the foot of snow-capped rocky ridges
And rays of sun, casting long yellow stripes,
Brightly peer through green, mossy trees.
How we choose to experience our lives is up to us.
Lets call a truce today and name it
Beautiful, but bloody cold!