In the Bleak Midwinter
On days like today, I feel very much like this poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the moldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My … Continue reading In the Bleak Midwinter