There is a certain hour in the day when dead things come alive again—resurrected by the sun. Grays and browns are robed in light and the landscape drips in gold and glitter.
The winter earth is not dead; it’s resting, waiting, anticipating when life and color will open before us again.
Here’s to finding new life in a new year.
Outside Air 
Beautifully simple. Here’s to making newness out of every day we live and breathe. Thank you for bringing me up to date.
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Beautiful … loved this. Found my poem for the day. Thanks and keep it coming in 2015.
All the best – Michael
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