To say that it was cold was to say the obvious.
To say bone chilling, damp, cold brought emphasis.
The sky was cloudy with gray, sinister looking clouds.
I passed the cemetery alongside of the highway.
It looked forlorn and abandoned and almost forgotten.
There was a blue pickup truck parked,
but I could see no people.
It was not the kind of day you would want to visit
the grave of a loved one.
I traveled on to the east.
All the usual wispy growth
had turned from green to a wheat color.
It would not be harvested.
The wind was blowing hard enough
to bend it as if flattening it
for the snow to lay upon.
That season is near and
the bleakness of the day did not
put you in the mood for a storm.
It is early in December
and not officially winter.
Still there was beauty, although
you had to look a little harder for it.
Nature may disappoint at times but
always gives us some taste of beauty.
We can be thankful for that, but
also have hopes that the dark season
will not last for seemingly what
feels like forever. I always pray
for a beautiful fall season,
a short brisk winter, and an early spring.
It is an annual prediction and I also claim that
there will be no snow before its time.
Sometimes my dreams become true and
I hope that is the case this year.
Today, however, is not a good sign,
but it is only one day.
I have great hopes for tomorrow.
Stanski
December 8, 2020 ^
Steve Haarman 