Onset of winter. Entrancing dawn. The golden sun smiles through the dew a washed leaves of the tree that is at my backyard. The same tree that had the intruder bees once (http://soniajohn.blogspot.in/2010/11/bees-attack.html). The branch that housed the bees was ravaged by last year's monsoon. The smell of the fog, the chirp of the birds and the silence of the enclosing foliage refresh my mornings.
Our cozy corner has become cozier. Each of us spent some moments of closeness with nature these mornings. As the season advances the fog envelop thickens and the milk white curtains wait to be parted by the bright star. Like me, the drooping leaves seem lazy to wake up in the cold mornings. Wrapped in woolens, with a cup of hot coffee, on a chair by the window....I unwind with the nostalgia evoking lines of Shelly, 'The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind, If winter comes, can spring be far behind?'
Our cozy corner has become cozier. Each of us spent some moments of closeness with nature these mornings. As the season advances the fog envelop thickens and the milk white curtains wait to be parted by the bright star. Like me, the drooping leaves seem lazy to wake up in the cold mornings. Wrapped in woolens, with a cup of hot coffee, on a chair by the window....I unwind with the nostalgia evoking lines of Shelly, 'The trumpet of a prophecy! O wind, If winter comes, can spring be far behind?'
Such posts always make me nostalgic... Beautiful pics...
ReplyDeleteThank You Bindu.
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