Standing Still

It is dark now. Cold. My candles are lit, and that lush red sweeps around, framing the frosty glow of the monitor.

Earlier, as I took out the garbage, my boots crunched through brittle snow. In my lungs, the feel of the night air was almost...bright. You can taste it, sense it in your skin. Winter is sweeping in, pressing her cool lips against the Sun's ruddy cheek, in the Tropic of Capricorn.

From golden leaves to snowflakes, from the colors of flame to the shades of ice. Autumn has gone into the West. Now, the year pirouettes...and swirls into the crystal season.

And the Sun stands still.

Hello Winter...