Walk slowly through a park
a week before Christmas.
Here there is no sound
but the crunch of snow underfoot.
Oh, but the smells abound!
Sharp, frosty air carries
the fragrance of pine, bayberry
and a cozy hearth fire.
Late afternoon sun slants
through ice-coated branches.
Feel the soft blanket
of approaching darkness.
Burrow your nose into your scarf,
inhale the warmth of your body.
In the peace of silence,
thrill to remembered childhood joy.
Surrender to the gentle side of winter - a season to visit with yourself, to rest, to think, to nourish and grow.
Feeley writes from Sea Isle City.