There are have been times in life when I’ve been filled with doubt and fear, worried, scared and heart wrenchingly, overwhelmingly sad. Times when I’ve wanted to climb back into bed and hide beneath the covers. Or, in a pinch, hiding under a table would have done.
Anything, so that life couldn’t find me and would leave me the hell alone. My heart small and tiny, a shriveled bud, hoping and waiting for the winter of discontent to melt away. And it always did.
It always gets better… in words and pictures.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. Albert Camus.
Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
The colour of springtime is in the flowers, the colour of winter in the imagination. Terri Guillemets.
Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face. Victor Hugo.
We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter’s evening. Some of us let these great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them; nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the sunshine and light which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true. Woodrow T. Wilson.
And my final, heartfelt quote, because I’m British so I can say this, and because I think it’s funny and because sometimes it’s true.
The English winter – ending in July./To recommence in August. Lord Byron.
May all the winters of your heart be quick to melt into spring in this brand new year.
Love Elle.
xoxo
All Photos from http://w-i-n-t-e-r-.tumblr.com/
4 Comments
Elle;
Thank you so much for your wonderful daily words. You do such a marvelous job of painting life in joyous colors.
Thanks Brian. I really appreciate your input. Always so good to hear from you.
Elle, from one writer to another – you are a master writer who paints such wonderful word pictures. Your writing flows like a crystal clear mountain stream. Books, my dear – that is what is wanted!
Thanks Rev Dore. You make me blush! But you’ve got me thinking!