Now the four winds stand up to sing their winter song-the thud of snow from creaking pine-branches, the cracking of ice on the meres, the reverberating fall of rocks split by the black frost on the hilltop, the shivering whimper of owls-these are the crude notes of the dark months.
So the year’s music draws to the close which means a new beginning.
Nature’s music is never over;her silences are pauses, not conclusions.