When the sun sets on the day, it isn’t over. There are hours yet to be lived before the clock tolls twelve. In that time last night I looked up above the horizon of winter silver and saw a sliver of moon. It was clean and bright but there wasn’t much of it.

A pencil thin line outlined the sky where a celestial object reins supreme over the night. Near the bottom was a crescent. I half expected to see a small child throwing out his fishing line but if he was there, he was invisible to my eye. As I looked on, the clouds ambled by in slow waves of murky white.

There were no stars this night. Closing my eyes I heard the gentle whisper of the wind blowing across the snow. Opening them again I spied the glistening sparkle of flakes being tossed in the air. They danced magically and seemed to float into the long infinitum of eternity.

Winter is not always cold. Sometimes it’s warm and youthful. It’s the season of giving and sharing, a season for making new plans for the year and a season for being true to ones self. Winter means snowmen, gingerbread cookies and milk to warm up again before returning to the snowball fight. We needn’t grow too old to remember the joys of winter. Close your eyes and go back to your childhood. Think of the fun and think of how alive you were. When you open your eyes keep those thoughts close to your heart and do your best to live that life of wonder again. You’ll find you are a whole lot happier.