The logs lie quiet beneath a final whisper of snow, like forgotten verses in a poem winter never finished. Each ring in the wood tells a story of storms survived, of sap once rising, of roots deep in frozen soil. Now, the frost clings not with fury but with nostalgia\u2014its grip softened, its silence stretched thin as light begins to stretch its limbs again. The evergreens, still loyal, bow under the weight of memory while a hush settles in: not of death, but of turning. This is winter\u2019s last breath\u2014a soft exhale before the thaw, a lace of white unraveling at the edge of the world where spring hums beneath the bark, just waiting to wake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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The logs lie quiet beneath a final whisper of snow, like forgotten verses in a poem winter never finished. Each ring in the wood tells a story of storms survived, of sap once rising, of roots deep in frozen soil.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":43268,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[245],"tags":[216,21],"class_list":["post-43264","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-winter-2025","tag-2024-5782","tag-manitoba","entry","has-media"],"yoast_head":"\n