The first big snowfall of the season always manages to impress. The stark difference between the hurried rush of summer activity and the quieter hush of winter begins with nature and spreads outward or inward as the case may be.
She positioned herself on a pillow near the fire with a hot cup of tea and just a smidgen of milk. The dance of the flames primed her temporarily frozen body, for the rush of thought to come. Without shifting her gaze, she set the milk down and quietly stirred her tea.
The fire was a welcome contrast to the prickly chill that snuck in through the old wooden floor. She leaned in closer to the glow. Wind whistled through a gap in the back porch door, swirling a small whirl of snow into the kitchen. Winter had a way of arriving with reminders that clanged or popped, or even whistled.
She lit a candle and whispered "protect and comfort" as she placed it on the mantle. With a blanket over her shoulders, she continued to gaze into the flames, sipping her tea.
It's difficult to know where thought shifted into dream, but the transition was evident by the smile on her face.