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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.