winter loves

I love that people don’t stop to talk to one another on the street.  It’s too cold, so things stay nice and quiet and lonesome, and you can shovel your neighbor’s sidewalk without being required to talk to them.  I love red cheeks and wool skirts and mittens and darkness and the snow under the streetlamps in the dark and bread and books (the heavy, winter kind) and slow winter music and many pots of soup and the oven on.  I love wooden bowls filled with clementines and moistening dry lips and watching more movies and lingering here and there to warm oneself and cod liver oil.

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