The Winter Day

It starts as stillness

The air changes

There's a short pause

then it starts.

Snow falling gently

cleansing the path

as my feet

create a rhythm of

crunch, crunch, crunch.

Meditation

breathing

becomes a series of

white puffs

The mind taking a break

as Mother Nature paints her canvas white.

Cold Artwork

I love running on trails on cold mornings.

The only sound is the crunch of my feet as they hit the frozen ground.

Sometimes something stops me in my tracks.

Sometimes it is an animal, a deer, or listening to a woodpecker.

Today it was the design on the ice in a small puddle waiting for the sun.

The lines are straight, but go in all different directions.

The white looks frosty as the day heats up, changing it to water.

Made me think of Snow White - maybe I was the queen,

Looking into the frosty mirror, saying,

"Mirror, Mirror"

What would it reply?