The beaches are bare, the woods are loud. The streets are aglow, the snowy owls have returned and fires in the hearth are regular companions.
Soak it up with a sigh or shout. After all, December sings its song in whatever key you choose.




















The birds of the winged trees flying my name Above the farms and the white horses I rose in rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days. – Dylan Thomas
The beaches are bare, the woods are loud. The streets are aglow, the snowy owls have returned and fires in the hearth are regular companions.
Soak it up with a sigh or shout. After all, December sings its song in whatever key you choose.




















1 Comment
Stunningly Beautiful ❤️
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