When Winter Now

So pull on the wool socks. Make the soup that takes three hours. Light the candle that smells like pine and nostalgia.

When Winter Finally Arrives

When winter comes, it doesn't knock. It slips in overnight — on a sharp breath of wind, a frost-stiffened lawn, the sudden need for two blankets instead of one. when winter

When winter comes, the world slows. Birds fluff into tiny feathered spheres. Your own shadow stretches long and thin across the pavement at noon. Steam rises from coffee cups like a quiet prayer for warmth. So pull on the wool socks

When winter comes, meet it not with resistance, but with a slow, grateful breath. a frost-stiffened lawn