Cruel Beast

Winter has been cruel to the woods in the hills.  She has teased for so long, offering false glimpses of spring to trees that do not suspect her deception.  Warm weather and rain to wash away the dry leaves of fall were just trickery to those tall residents of the hills and hollers of home.

Now she does the inevitable, she rushes in the cold, the snow and throws it at all who were fooled by the false spring.  She hurls ice and piles snow upon rock and root in mockery of the trust that the mountains placed in the signs of spring.  She mocks and she destroys, as is her wont.  She is a beast, hideous and cruel in nature.

Don't be fooled by the seemingly gentle vistas of white snow blanketing the meadows.  It is like a python, wrapping around and smothering.  Winter is a cruel beast.  She paces around through the mighty oak, hickory and maples, looking for ways to hurt and harm, nipping off buds of trees that took the warm weather to heart.

Winter is a cruel beast, there is no real warmth in her.