The cold, stiff breeze blows into my face, as the purples and grays of winter’s sunset fade quietly toward twilight; the colors, swirling and streaking as the molten gold slips below the horizon, make a heady imitation of the Aurora Borealis.
The fresh cold air seems alive; generous in its capacity to chill; my jacket clearly not the right one for this outing.
As I walk along, the full moon rises, casting night shadows that, as a child, scared me as I tramped along. The grass is frosty already, a harbinger of the heavy frost that will await my early morning sojourn, and sparkles faintly in the silvery light.
I will pass out grain and a few ear scratches, locking the beasts in for the night; making all snug on the farm.
Nighttime beauty is one of my favorite winter treats these days; frost glistening at the end of my flashlight and a swollen moon lighting the path I walk; the night shadows that terrified me as a child are but a distant memory; the peace and serenity of the cold night are hard to beat in comparison to this fast paced, loud, nonstop world we live in; it’s a time of quiet reflection and contemplation; a little sanity to end the day.
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