Loveliness of winter

I walk through snowy fields, listening to the whisper of snow falling in old hedge rows, hearing the ripple of a little stream flowing dark over sodden leaves, through snowy banks that reach to the water's edge. Everything is hushed except a cawing crow, lost and flying blind through the swirling snow.

of 5 stories this month > Get unlimited stories
You've read 5 of 5 free stories

Only $1 for your first month.

Get unlimited Monitor journalism.