Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
[from Winter-Time by Robert Louis Stevenson]
It's Mid-Winter's Day. The Winter Solstice. The Shortest Day.
It's all uphill from here...
And I assume later you'll be running around naked with a flaming torch right?
ReplyDeleteOh no, dear - I might set fire to my peignoir... Jx
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