Fresh Winter Snow

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6

Christine Fichtner Grouse Mountain Vancouver

 

Crisp, cold, biting the end of your nose and the tips of your ears. Fresh, pine, and tall trees that tower towards the sky.

An unmistakable scent. Clean, fresh, reflecting the sun’s radiance. Pristine, glittering in the day’s light.

And sometimes the scent of burning logs. Smoke from a warm hearth. Rosy cheeks and glowing faces, warm in their laughter.

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6 thoughts on “Fresh Winter Snow”

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