Winter is a time of darkness and slumber. Fresh fallen snow blanket the ground with its imminent coldness. Footsteps leave their impressions in the snow. Trees are bare skeletons save a few, with their branches mangled yet delicate as sparkling clear icicles adorn them. Darkness comes sooner, engulfing the grey never ending sky. All is silent outside as no birds are to be seen.
Inside, people sip hot chocolate, curled up by the fireplace. Christmas trees are often seen, decorated with ornaments with presents below. Strings of light frame the houses. People are jolly and sing Christmas carols. The story of Old St. Nick is passed from generation to generation.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
suebriquet) wrote,
amused
