When the wind comes down the mountainside
And presses chilled fingers against the pane.
You watch the snowflakes fly on by.
Covering your way onto the lane.
The fire crackles across the room.
A log crumbles to ashes.
Drawing your attention there
As sparks fly up in flashes.
Reflection of the fire light
Is seen within your eyes.
Then grayness fills them full
As you stare toward the skies.
It seems as if all is breathless,
For the moment the wind is still.
No life is seen a’stirring
As you gaze above the sill.
Away across the meadow
Where the yellow flowers grow.
The stream has stopped a’flowing,
It’s banks all packed with snow.
The baring branches creak & bend
No leaves where sparrows can hide.
You realize winter is upon you now,
As the wind comes down the mountainside.
a rhonda original©
Hirzel – Andreas Vollenweider
Original photo shot by my mother last October as fall was winding down & winter was just around the bend. This is along Kern River near Lake Isabella, CA, USA