On a whim…

Life without whimsy is not much of a life at all; without it, a walk in the dark is no laughing matter.

Archive for the ‘cold’ Category

Winter Blah

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Let me be clear, I love snow. I love seeing flakes accumulate in ominous piles foreshadowing a frozen end of days. I like huge snow-ball sized globs of it falling on balsam and fir lending an air of Christmas to the early days of Lent. I love snow. What I do not love is the deepening chill of night when the air is wet and the wind bores a hole through to my gizzard; the premature sense that this chill is of the grave.

Written by David Wilkerson

8 February 2011 at 6:47 pm

Posted in cold, death, epiphany, hope

The cold was bitter. . .

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Choking cold…

Strangling cold…

Assaulted by the cold…

Cracking, scratchy, cold…

Crossing the cast iron lawn he held his frosted mitten to his face covering his nose half expecting to find that it had already fallen off.

Written by David Wilkerson

2 December 2007 at 4:45 pm

Posted in cold

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