The ghosts of old summers linger within the slumbering trees as they hold their naked vigil against the frigid length of winter. They haunt me from my window, whispering of a riot of green and a lullaby of peepers. Fireflies. Flowers. A slick of sweat above my lip. The scent of soil as I pull a carrot from the garden. The buzz of a bee. The shriek of cicada. The scurry of some small creature in the undergrowth.
A rush of bracing wind scatters my ghosts. The cold austerity of a winter morning holding fast. For now. But not for long.
Jennifer Shelby 
Absolutely LOVE the aura of this… my senses have been touched.
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Wow, thank you! That made my day.
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Wow. Just… wow. It was so brief but I could feel all those things you described.
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❤❤
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You cast the spell instantaneously. It is a treat, even if a sliver.
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Thank you. I’m glad you felt it a treat!
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You bring summer and winter together with your words!
It was absolute pleasure reading this!
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