"In the
bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a
stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago."
Christina Rossetti - In the Bleak Midwinter
No snow has fallen on the land around our house, but with the first day
of winter, we found a new cold and fresh rain. The orange and red leaves of
autumn cling to the trees and line the streets and we no longer leave the house
without first finding a jacket or the promise of a warm destination.
I'm shut away in our study looking out towards grey skies and the trail
of the wind on the trees and the leaves. As I finish off my last two assignment
before my university break I'm longing to be smarter, better with words and
more astute with the expression of my thoughts - but while flailing, I've found
myself here.
This is winter in Paris three and a half years ago. After a few more
days locked away with books, literature readings, and the high hopes of amazing
essays; I'll be lost in someone else's story, reading all things not
predetermined for me to read.
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