There are times when it is just too cold to write.
Fingers stiff, skin cold, just can't get warm.
Instead of being a beautiful scenic view of snow falling gently...
Large flakes drifting as if in a silent movie
It is miserable, icy and I am snowbound.
Winter is a nasty thing.
It is hideous,
Rude and unwilling to be gentle, nice.
It scrapes icy nails across the chalkboard of January.
