WINTER WINAMP SKINS
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JANUARY MORN SLEIGH RIDE
Snow laden branches on the trees on a chilly January morn, the rising sun shedding its first dawning light on our wintry sleigh ride. O, would it be that our sleigh ride should never end, the cold, crisp January morn hailing a new beginning.
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JOURNEY INTO WINTER
Glimmering plains of virgin snow, frosty white splendour newly born, keen and chill the winds howl, our journey into Winter cold and silent. Frozen in an icy grasp, captured in the frigid stillness, coated in a blanket of white, this is our journey into Winter.
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THE MAGIC OF WINTER
Lazily and incessantly the snow floats down and down, the cold evening wind invigorates the skaters, the ear harkens to the stillness of the air, such is the magic of Winter. The beauty of the wintry night greets them, no cares encumber their minds, the skaters eagerly await to sketch designs on the ice, such is the magic of Winter.
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MAPLE SUGARING
It's no longer really winter,
Yet it's really not quite spring,
It's that in between of seasons,
Time for maple sugaring.
Each year comes sugar season,
When those maple trees are tapped,
Oh, the grand tongue tantalizing treat
That comes from maple sap.
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MAPLE SYRUP HARVEST
Tap the maple, hang the bucket,
Not a drop of the sap is missed,
Boil it down, bottle it up,
This is the maple syrup harvest.
Empty the buckets into the barrels,
Then to the sugar shack we go,
To make that sweet, sweet golden syrup,
And over the pancakes it will flow.
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MASS ON A WINTER MORN
Today we celebrate Your mighty power,
For by Your hand you raised Christ from the grave,
From resurrection Sunday until this day,
Your love has given life to all mankind.
Father we thank you for today,
We give this special day over to You.
May we rest in Your presence,
Bathe in Your goodness,
And celebrate Your eternal life,
This day and always.
Amen.
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MEMORIES OF WINTER
The city is caught in the grip of winter, cars, sleighs, horses all make their way down Main Street, the laughter of children in the air, the simple delights of the season bring back long ago memories. All seasons have their joys, and winter its delights, bare boughs weighed with snow, chimneys all ablaze, cheerful hearths and a warming cup bring back memories of winter.
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MERRY WINTER DAYS
The tang of frost is sharp and clear, laughter rings out at noontide of a winter's day, a cold wind rings like music through the wold and dell, homestead lights glimmer across drifted snow, waiting with hearth and warmth for its joyful visitors, a glistening splendor crowns the woods above sparkling snow-vestured fields. These are the merry Winter days.
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MOONLIGHT LODGE IN WINTER
A full moon shimmers in the night sky, and on the frosty hills the trees send a whispering wind that sings over the glimmering virgin snow. Homestead lights shine with a friendly warmth, while the moonshine makes fluttering snowflakes twinkle like a wonderland of dreams here at Moonlight Lodge in winter.
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THE MORNING AFTER
The mad wind's night work, driving the snow over everything in its path, the north wind's wild work, so fanciful, so savage, a fierce artificer carving his winter masonry in the tumultuous storm, the aftermath when the sun appears reveals the frolic architecture of the snow the morning after.
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ODE TO WINTER
Stay, season of soulful snows, blow, boisterous winds, the virgin world lies in frosty white array like a wonderland of dream. The wintry gales extend their blast, the great north sends driving forth his relentless sleet and snow.
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THE OLD SUGAR HOUSE
The trees are tapped and now the sap
Is boiling in the vats,
Maple syrup is made at the Old Sugar House,
Thanks to nature in this wondrous habitat.
Syrup and cookies, butter and brittle,
Maple products oh so sweet,
All being made at the Old Sugar House,
Tasty treats that can’t be beat.
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OLDE MAPLE LANE FARM
The horses snort and toss their heads, their white manes quivering. Their harnesses creak as they lurch forward, grunts of exertion and the sounds of metal and leather breaking through the silence of the wood. The buckets hanging on the maples are emptied into the gathering tank the horses pull. Inside the sugar shack a fire is ablaze, wispy smoke rises from the chimney. Sugaring has begun here at Olde Maple Lane Farm.
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ON A SNOWY WINTER DAY
The kids are ready and rarin’ to go,
It’s snowing, hooray! hooray!
Sledding down the hill with such gusto,
On a snowy winter day.
The snow is heavy, the snow is deep,
It’s an ideal time to play,
Down they go on a hill so steep,
On a snowy winter day.
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ON TOP OF THE WORLD
The air is silent save a calm breeze among the firs, the virgin world lies in white array. Wide, sparkling fields shimmer beneath a blue, unshadowed sky. A glistening splendour crowns the mountain tops here on top of the world.
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PASSERSBY ON A COLD WINTER'S DAY
Freshly fallen snow lay on the ground,
On skis or in a sleigh,
Everyone is enjoying the wintertide,
Passersby on a cold winter’s day.
The ground is white, there’s a chill in the air,
This is the time to play,
Cross country skiing and a horse drawn ride,
Passersby on a cold winter’s day.
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PATHWAY TO WINTER
Winter winds piercingly chill the air, the gale blows over hill and vale, snow covers the deep solitudes of the forest.  The pathway to winter stretches ahead with shining snowcrystals rainbowed by the sun. Winter's song has grown familiar as it wafts along the pathway to winter.
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PLACID WINTER DAYS
This was one of those perfect placid winter days where the spirit of winter sends a cold northerly wind across the snow covered land, and, with feigned sympathy for those who shiver with inclemency, puts its frigid cloak of bracing air about domain and territory and human shoulders.
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PUCKS ON THE POND
The day lay quiet, the frozen pond savoured by the players, this friend called Winter inviting them, and lightening their cares, their world centred around pucks on the pond. The wind boisterously blows like a melody to the skaters, a diamond glow of Winter over everything, their only thoughts about pucks on the pond.
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QUIESCENT AND WHITE WITH SNOW
Cold and chill, and stalwart still,
The great north wind doth blow.
Every hill and dale which felt the wintry gale
Is now quiescent and white with snow.
The mighty storm abates, and fluttering flakes
Descend to the ground all aglow.
All is quiet and sedate, in a tranquil hushed state,
And is quiescent and white with snow.
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QUIET THE WINTER BLOWS
The season is winter, and they that know the winter know it to be sharp and violent, and subject to cruel and fierce storms. Although its weather-beaten face presents a wild and savage hue, there is a solemn and silent face, one of tranquility and beauty as quiet the winter blows.
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ROADWAY INTO WINTER
The trees stand covered in Winter’s vestiture, their abundant summery wordage silenced. White drifts are heaped on the roadway, frozen silvery ruts lead on through the forest. Shining snow crystals are rainbowed by the sun on a long stretch of roadway into Winter.
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RUN WINTER RIVER, RUN
The Winter river runs quickly with scarcely any time for a breaking wave against its snow covered banks. It rushes on, criss-crossing and glistening underneath a setting sun against Winter’s hard blowing headwind. Twisting, swirling and dancing, run Winter river, run.
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RUSTIC WINTER REPOSE
Here in this rustic hideaway, stillness abounds, there is a palpable sense of silence and darkness, the falling snow is a poem of the air, all inside are in soft repose by the cheerful hearth. Oh that I could stay in this winter cocoon wrapped in warmth and tranquil serenity.
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SAP TO SYRUP
Get a drill, drill bit, bucket, hammer and spout and head out to find a healthy sugar maple tree. Drill a hole in the tree two inches deep. Grab your spout and set it in the hole. With your hammer, lightly hammer the spout into the tree. Hang your bucket from the spout and let the sap fill the bucket. Finally, boil the sap until enough water is removed and you are left with pure maple syrup. Now, make your pancakes… m-m-m-m
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SERENE WINTER DAYS
The rutted roads are all like iron, skies are keen and brilliant and only the oak leaves cling in the bare woods. All the ponds are sealed with sheeted ice with rings of stroke of skate and hockey-stick. An ample blaze of logs of oak and hickory cracks on the wide hearth. Now is the time, with winter o'er the world for timeless lingering by the settling fire on these serene winter days.
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SHELTER FROM WINTER'S CHILL
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, alights on all the land, and veils the refuge hidden in the woods. The sled and traveller stopped, the housemates sit around the radiant fireplace, enclosed in a tumultuous privacy of storm, shelter from Winter's chill.
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THE SILENCE OF WINTER
Stay, season of soulful snows and boisterous winds, when all lays white upon the earth, with hushed placidity between cacophonous tempests, bestowing the silence of Winter. Stay, season of  deep solitudes, chill air and wintry winds, your diamond glow lays over the world, my ear has grown familiar with your song, the silence of Winter.
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SNOW FORT
We piled it high, digging with shovels and hands, creating an inner sanctum, a fortress, creating our retreat from the world, a place of magic known only to childhood. This is where we hide all day, plotting our strategies, stacking our armaments of snowballs in the grandiosity of our snow fort.
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SNOW, SNOW MY WINTER FRIEND
Snow, snow my winter friend,
Sweep the world from end to end,
Cover all with your blanket of white,
Snow, snow from dawn till night.
My winter friend come snow and snow,
Your winter breath will blow and blow,
Your winter beauty to us you send,
Snow, snow my winter friend.
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