The day is wrapped in early morning quiet.
The blanket of snow muffles all sound.
It is barely light, and the icy blue sky has the barest tinge of pink.
A cold winter blush.
Layers of clothes and the warm snuggle of sweaters and soft fluffy socks.
The soft twinkle of tree lights and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon.
Bing is singing traditional favorites, and I sing along.
Warm cookies, straight out of the oven. Melted chocolate sweet on the tongue.
My senses are overwhelmed in the days leading up to Christmas.
It Just Dawned On Me 