The Third

The days slip away so slowly in the winter...the sun sneaks behind the pines 'round about four...the bare branches of the old oak bear the remnants of what was, in the spring, new life, fresh new bids of leaves, striving through teh first cold snap...surviving all the ups and downs of nature...only to die before winter comes, and be replaced by the newer life.  Breezes sweep over the earth's smiling face as the sun slides lower and lower...it's beautiful...and the aroma of plants--vitality--is in the air, it gives new meaning to the phrase "fresh air."  It is a day like no other--the beginning of a new year--a fresh start...and its beauty is surpassed by no other.