I sit. The dove grey light is peaceful, as if it were a sea of air, still and deep around me. The morning hush a quilt to dampen the night's frenzy of rampant dreams. I could sit in this moment forever. I walked in the yard yesterday, sinking into the knee deep drift, sinking into winter. I walked down to the stone that I like to sit on, it's form obliterated by the snow. I just guessed and sat down where I thought it was, the snow encapsulating me as I sunk so tenderly into the winter garden. Face to the sky, snow holding me in its soft arms and my thoughts are of the gardens of winter, of the trees slumbering, of the memory of roses.

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