New Air

There's something about the December air -- The very breathe of it makes wide room for pulling near. For drawing close and opening, like the splintering of early ice, conversations of the past. Healing and shivering all at once. 

/ / / All Autumn you've repeated the same words over again, until they match the rhythm of crunching leaves while walking --- and you've forgotten all original meaning has faded. / / /

Now, exposed there's the reminder of the New Year, of the holidays, and all regained hope for new passions. 

The fire crackles there under the mantle, and we envy it instantly. Yearn for the passion and the warmth, beneath layers of blankets and hidden wounds of a past year. Dive into the depths of tea cups in hopes that all will feel as calm --- and yet in brilliant, falling, opposition as well. 

This time of year, I wish the month in its entirety could be spent freely --- I'd wander the now-barren woods, watch the waters on the Bay rolling over cold, and embrace all the loved ones near. The finality of it all --- wastes no time in finding jolly times. Waste no time, while the snow holds off a bit longer, and there's places to be...