With shorter days come slower nights, more time to settle for solitude.
Love is gone and is here still, more in the heart than can be lived.
For all there is a season and this is mine, evergreen, and woven into wintery cobwebs.
Somehow I resist the temptation to brush them away.
I prefer winter…when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter.
Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.
Andrew Wyeth, American Painter (1917 – 2009)
Thanks to Mindfulbalance for passing on this quote in the post Our Roots are Deep, Despite the Wind.
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