It's cold, the beginning of a long winter.
A short drive from home and we arrive at our cabin in the woods,
where the snow has fallen, thinking it will stay,
the ice is forming on the shallow creek, only a ripple of water flows along the edge before gliding underneath unsteady footing.
I'm not fond of ' thin ' ice.
The benches and chairs, the deck, need shoveling for one last sit
to quietly watch for a bit of color,
or timid movement.
Soon the deer blind will be moved on it's skids,
onto the lake, for ice fishing~A dual-purpose shanty.
I will look forward to seeing the deer peek in the windows, wondering whether or not they will continue to be treated to bits of corn, acorns and pumpkins.
The colors of Christmas are moving in, flitting about,
The Pine Grossbeak Boys are filling up for another snowfall or worse, freezing rains.
Bringing it on, seems to be a winter wish.
I'm thinking I will hibernate.
Thanks for stopping by.