Snow runoff flows downHill from my driveway to theCow pasture. I standIn the middle and watch winterWash away around my shoes.

The old man has always been there. There was never a time in my life when he didn’t show up. True, it was always according to his schedule. Time meant nothing to him. He would show up when he wanted to and leave when he jolly well pleased. No glances at the wall to check ...

“Ugh, winter.” A queasy moan yawns from the mouths of locals in northern climates. They know what’s coming. They have been through it all before;  frigid temperatures, darkness, isolation, and boredom. Winter is a time when many people experience an occasional low mood or prolonged Seasonal Affective Disorder – depression symptoms caused by lack of ...

But when Spring begins, the days start to get longer, and the world begins to thaw. This is the true turning point for me. Both plants and people are coming out of hibernation. We’re all waking up and ready to clean out Winter’s leftovers and replace them with hope.

Hello there squirrel, staring at me out in the cold. Are you looking for some warm place to be? Oh no! Silly squirrel, you cannot go through my window! Photo by JD Bergstrom

|Part I| I can remember it so vividly. We tied our skates on the old bench that sat next to the lake. We took each other’s hands and, on wobbly little legs, touched that icy frozen water. My sister lost her balance and fell backwards onto her backside. A smile formed on my lips, remembering her giggle as she ...

I never remember liking snow. Growing up in Ohio means that I am no stranger to winter weather. But I do remember loving snow days. I lived for the joy of my mother opening my bedroom door and telling me that I could sleep in. Snow days meant no school and impromptu gatherings with friends. ...

Gray, gray, and more gray.Then the sun emerges. ISquint and breathe glory. Photo courtesy of Pixmartin from Pixabay

Wind scrapes my windowI snuggle deeper intomy book, its words ablanket, soft and warm. Time andreality disappear. Featured Photo courtesy of The Pixelman on Pixabay

I sat in silent contemplation, watching mindlessly as the icy flakes drifted silently to the ground. I glanced over and saw my skates sitting on the floor, untouched for the past three years. I haven’t worn them since… I turned my attention back to my grief journal, the blank pages staring back at me. I couldn’t write anything ...