Winter

Miss B. greeted me at the breakfast table with this spontaneous little poem, composed after glimpsing a bare branch through the window:

Winter

The trees are bare,

Their leaves nowhere.

Snowflakes fall on the trees,

Happy days begin to freeze.

But winter days have just begun,

Throwing snowballs is lots of fun!

We sled down steep hills,

What--more tumbles??

Now comes Christmas, quiet, fun,

And winter's just begun.

Often, rather than simply saying something like, "I'm excited for winter to come!" she'll write a poem, and has done so since she first learned to write--she just loves the sound of words, the varying rhythms, the lingual dance. 

Just one of the many little drops of delight with which she showers our days.  There's nobody quite like Julia.