Summary
A lonely old man named Winter came to us this week. We didn't expect him, but he came anyway. Not with the force and anger that we remember from years past, nor the gentleness of other years past when we talked about, wrote about and sang about a white Christmas that was always there. Jingle bells that always rang, snow birds that always flew, drifts and drifts of snow and layers and layers of ice as we looked out or our windows trying to find a relief from our Canadian cousins' certainty of the grandeur of winter.
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Extract
The Spring, Summer or Winter of Our Senses
A lonely old man named Winter came to us this week. We didn't expect him, but he came anyway. Not with the f...
See the full content of this document
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