And so begins the slow demise of green. Shrouded in a quilt of snow. The scent of summer is a black-market commodity, a distant memory that feels incongruous and unreal as we sit back in our self-prescribed hibernation.

The pungent, lush flourish of spring and summer are relegated to the recesses of our minds.

Growth replaced with slumber.

The novelty wears off quickly.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s