The first real snowfall, pretty white flakes clinging to trees. Ice is slippery and
frightening. The sky is first black and white but when it clears for a moment or two
the sun comes out and makes these branches glisten.
I love candles, always did. I used to collect candles when I was young. My father, for many, many years before he died, would buy me a candle every Christmas. It was a tradition. Now, my mom, my sister, even my son have given me candles as presents. Not only do I love them, but it keeps the memory of my father alive. I think it’s sweet that my family is trying to hold on to a tradition I dearly loved.