Love letter # 401
This is your time of year; the soft and quiet settling of winter. In your boots and scarves. Your alabaster skin in the pale and watery light. Dark eyes shining out of the mist. Warm breath foggy as you stand beside me. The promise of a hearth inside you. The welcoming crackle of your smile.
For when the early night falls and bare trees make bony lines in crisp moonshine, I am at one with you – wrapped in cosy arms. In the hibernating world, spring is being prepared – locked yet in damp ground – but there for all to know, should they wish to. And we do.
In this seasonal chill I celebrate the rich and earthy beauty of you. Where all else seems grey and uninspired, you come alive. Fleur d’hiver. Brighter than sky. Lighter still than the smoky, drifting mizzle of evening. Making everything gorgeous.