winter

Beautiful winter means beautiful spring! When you look at a great winter scenery, see the flowers, see the bees, see the butterflies, they are all there!

There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that__ a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don__ fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything__ quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep__hen they appear.

In winter the very ground seemed to reach up and grab the elderly, yanking them to earth as though hungry for them.

The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter.

Winter is coming.

People say the beach is the great equaliserWho are they kidding?Sit at Bondi and watch the boys flexAnd the girls walk bolt uprightIt looks like a nightmare episode of Baywatch.The true equaliser is the mountain coldAnd stacks of cold flung togetherMaybe then we__ listen to what each other is sayingInstead of checking out the best bods.And as I wrap another layerAround my Size 10I think of Jack__ favourite saying:__oday__ tan is tomorrow__ cancer__ walk outsideAnd whistle at the wind.

March came in that winter like the meekest and mildest of lambs, bringing days that were crisp and golden and tingling, each followed by a frosty pink twilight which gradually lost itself in an elfland of moonshine.

What did you bring me today? Delusional mutterings with a side of crazy?

She gasped again and opened blue eyes lit with erotic mischief. __re you trying to steal the reins from me?__ven with his penis buried deep within her, even moments from climax, he arched an eyebrow. __ou have them only by my permission.

I gave three quiet cheers for Minnesota. In Seattle a dusty inch of anything white and chilly means the city lapses into full-on panic mode, as if each falling flake crashes to earth with its own individual baggie of used hypodermic needles. It__ ridiculous.

A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.

They're the first crew I've ever had and most of them even call me Captain. I'm going to miss them.

Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns. It's late afternoon - the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour) behind some colder violet hills, and I am up in my window seat using the last light to write to you.

Winter__ head snapped around, away from Scarlet. Scarlet__ pace slowed, dread pulsing through her as she, too, heard the footsteps. Pounding footsteps, like someone was running at full speed toward them. She reached for the knife Jacin had given her. A man barrelled around the corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter__ elbow, he yanked back the red hood. Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green that Scarlet could see them glowing from here. She was the one hallucinating now. She took a stumbling, uncertain step forward. Wanting to run toward him, but terrified it was a trick. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Wolf, ignoring how Winter was trying to pull away, grabbed her arm and smelled the filthy red sleeve of Scarlet__ hoodie, streaked with dirt and blood. He growled, ready to tear the princess apart. __here did you get this?_ So desperate, so determined, so him. The knife slipped out of Scarlet__ hand. Wolf__ attention snapped to her. __olf?_ she whispered. His eyes brightened, wild and hopeful. Releasing Winter, he strode forward. His tumultuous eyes scooped over her. Devoured her. When he was in arm__ reach, Scarlet almost collapsed into him, but at the last moment she had the presence of mind to step back. She planted a hand on his chest. Wolf froze, hurt flickering across his face. ____ sorry,_ said Scarlet, her voice teetering with exhaustion. __t__ just_I smell so awful, I can hardly stand to be around myself right now, so I can__ even imagine what it__ like for you with your sense of

Nothing burns like the cold.

Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.

Song falls silent, music is dumb,But the air burns with their fragrance,And white winter, on its knees,Observes everything with reverent attention.

Winter then in its early and clear stages, was a purifying engine that ran unhindered over city and country, alerting the stars to sparkle violently and shower their silver light into the arms of bare upreaching trees. It was a mad and beautiful thing that scoured raw the souls of animals and man, driving them before it until they loved to run. And what it did to Northern forests can hardly be described, considering that it iced the branches of the sycamores on Chrystie Street and swept them back and forth until they rang like ranks of bells.