The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter; the fleshy, in the summer. I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood. ~ John Burroughs
I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. ~Andrew Wyeth
When the bold branches
Bid farewell to rainbow leaves-
Welcome wool sweaters.
~ B. Cybrill
Winter dies into the spring, to be born again in the autumn. ~ Marche Blumbenberg
Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow
And we, we were children once again.
~ Bill Morgan, Jr.
peace and silence under a blanket of snow
wind whistling through branches bare
the whispers of twilight under a plump, full moon
the curls of tea-steam rising ghost-like in the air
To wool sweaters and pots of Earl Grey
To fresh baked bread and pails of chili
To greeting warm friends, both old and new
To dreams of gardens, of summer time, of spring
Shiver, quiver, like a branch on the trees
March we up and down through snow and sleet
Stamping boots and mittened hands
Searching the cobblestones for the feeling in our feet
Mmmm, come winter,
I am reborn...
The Lady of the Manor