A Winter's Day
- Creative Writing to Inspire -

Mobbing delinquent sky-merry greys ebb this winter day to a dim-dull haze. These darkening clouds cruise lower bequeathing a freezing fog to a rude wind. Autumn's bounty is brown and frosted. Daylight crouches demure. The starkest season has gained its tenure. For this day of winter, and those either side, are a class act when it comes to thickening the soul-hide. So reach for the woolen shields, reach for thick gloves,  put on a pea-coat and fasten it with self-love. For the hours until the quiet light's full hush are few, are wan, are ghostly thin.

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Cloud dunes roll the winter sky to white-grey as the sand below recalls summer rays; even the skies dream of clear nights and apple pip stars. The birds miss warm updrafts, the heather is shabby un-chic. The marram grass blanches as salt wind is stuck on repeat. Twilight's shadow-cloak seems to never quite leave, the soul with breathes with a sunken heave. Yet in my eyes the gentle light seeks to weave, to remind that its warmth is there even in the biting breeze. In this there is a scant sense of ease, an ease that feels so 'apple-pip', as if it could grow and spread within, defy the sky-dunes, defy bitter wind's briny-blues.

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This winter's day comes bathed in conspiratorial whispers, whispers that flow beneath the cold wind. In rebel light they fizz, in sun-ray wands they bubble; such a merry-mirth giggling of warm breezes being smuggled! All about the frozen world wiggles, as if shaking with silent giggles. The birdsong, hope-drunk, has become bonhomie-bawdy. Trees rustle in arboreal chatter, twigging that something is up. For though we stand in the cold season's dominion, the spring is preparing to shout in its opinion.  

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