An early December morning.
The sky, clearest blue, a blush of peach hugging the horizon and frost, sprinkled like fine sugar.
Warm air spews into the cold from a neighbour’s vent as birds swoop against this clear day.
The Virginia creeper, now bare, bereft of all autumnal jewels, makes me feel the littlest bit melancholy; winter is coming.
Up alone, quiet settling around me, I enjoy the peace and feel suddenly so grateful for the warmth of our home…for belonging.
Writing along with December prompts from writealm using Monday’s prompt ‘coming’…thanks Amanda.