wintery winds howl calling a bluff the sky’s story turns dark when only halfway each of my breaths more and more breath they followed in dance but leave me too to chase drifts that whistle and those raw gales… God, to the bone the forest taunts I hear the scratching slowing motion, I’m straight into fear, hopeless and alone I beg the moon a bond
“We are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime.” ―Laura Ingalls Wilder
*Take a look at our Christmas Village from a few years ago. The video was taken with an early smartphone. At the time, I was just fooling around really, but in retrospect, I’m glad I captured it. Because each and every time I watch it, I can’t help but smile.