I have written down many words that express my innermost, personal feelings on topics so varied, they would touch on just about every aspect of human life. The very act of writing, for me, is a kind of therapy, a means of getting something off my chest, so to speak. So many times, after a writing session in which I poured my heart out, I would read what I had just written and thought it was a bit corny.
Today, I looked out the window at the deepening gray of the sky and thought how much I was dreading the approaching Winter season. There was a time, when the crispness of the first cold mornings would cause an elevated sense of excitement within me.
I was much younger then, and the cold didn't seem to penetrate so deeply. The Holiday season was fast approaching, a time which meant fun, food, and adventure. Snowmen and snowballs, fortresses higher than your head and long, steep, snow covered slopes would offer an opportunity to prove ones courage and daring.
It's a shame what the passing of time steals from ones life. The true joys of life are experienced by children. Their world is filled with simple pleasures and they indulge in them with not so much as a single thought concerning the circumstances which make them possible, and that is the way it should be for ALL Children.
Clarence Bowles