It's been very cold of late, seasonably so,

Some ice and snow. 

The ponds are partially frozen,

The creeks, too.

The cold seeps into my bones, goes deep.

The overcast days cast a literal and figurative pall.

When the clouds dissipate revealing the sun

It feels like burden has been lifted, optimism returns.

That is the burden of winter—

It saps optimism.

As well, the fauna has been quiet,

A few squirrels, a few birds,

Mostly woodpeckers and hawks,

Some nuthatches, chickadees and etc.,

I see coyote tracks, sometimes hear them.

Lots of deer.

We did watch, a few days, as the deer

Focused their ears toward the timber.

They were intent on something untoward.

We watched through the window.

Sure enough, here comes a bobcat on the prowl,

Not for deer, but mice and voles and rabbits and squirrels.

The deer reacted cautiously, on alert, wary, ready.

I walk every day.

Yesterday morning it was gloomy, then the sun came out.

I sat on the deck having lunch, facing the sun,

Appreciating the sun.

It was cold, but the sun had some warmth.

Later in the day I walked up the lane, up the road,

Through Sam's pasture, through the timber, 

Eventually returning home.

I was looking for downed trees to cut for firewood,

As well as enjoying the walk.

I paused every time I came to a clearing

To feel the sun on my face.

I am so heartened by the sun, even on the hottest summer day,

My own comfort not withstanding.

I think about living in warmer climes,

Would I miss winter?

Today is heavily overcast, the forecast is for rain, a little warmer.

Some of the snow will likely melt,

Not on the north slopes.

It's hard to want to walk in this cold, dreary weather

Without the prospect of sun.

But, I will. I have no will power,

No will power to avoid what is pleasurable,

And walking, even on dreary days, offers some pleasure,

And no will power to avoid the more obvious pleasures, easily imaginable.

I'm sitting on the couch looking out the window,

Heat from the fireplace warming one side of me.

Outside the trees are without leaves of course.

The grass is red-tan, the snow is spotty and shallow.

I see no deer at the moment,

They'll be back, this is their home, too.

There is little movement in the high branches,

The wind must be close to nil.

It's a cold scene.

I'm cold despite fire.

It's a state of mind.