“Is the spring coming?" he said. "What is it like?" ..."It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine...”

                                                                                          ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

"Is the winter coming? What is it like?"

by Thurston Creative Writing Group

It is like knives getting under your skin.

The sharp snap of frost in the back of the throat.

Trees sparse of leaves, lonely and crestfallen.

Cold morning breezes mixed with warm cozy nights.

It's dark, slow and calming but brittle in the stark contrast of light.

Crystalised crumbs of soil on iced paths crushed under my feet.

With winter just looming around the corner, I can wear my woolly hat and scarf.

It is the frost on the branches catching the low winter sun, sparkling like nature's jewels.

The air is cold as it to suck the very life from your body, the ground defiant, unyielding as iron.

It's a peculiar season that should be harsh, presents harshly, but ultimately isn't quite so bad after all, like a huge, cold storm that sends you tumbling straight into the arms of comfort.