Winter is when life sort of dies for a moment.
Everything gets quiet.
Some people cannot withstand the silence so they break out and scream and yell, distract themselves from the cool air seeping into their souls.
Others embrace the cold quiet and let it in.
Let themselves feel death for a moment. Sadness rushes in with flurries of rain frozen in time, opening up to show the beauty within entirely exposed.
Sadness is beauty.
It’s makes you feel and remember passion.
Spring comes and new ideals and ways fill what has died off.
Death is a form of creation.