On harsh, frigid January days, when the winds are relentless and the snow piles up around us, I often think of our small feathered friends back on the Third Line. I wonder if the old feeder is still standing in the orchard and if anyone thinks to put out a few crumbs and some bacon drippings for our beautiful, hungry, winter birds. In the stark, white landscape they provided a welcome splash of colour and their songs gave us hope through the long, silent winter. Arlene StaffordWilson
So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and...
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Charlotte Eriksson
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
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John Steinbeck
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.
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Yoko Ono
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome."]
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Anne Bradstreet
Some winterswill never meltsome summerswill never freezeand some things will only... live in poems.
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Sanober Khan
More Quotes By Arlene StaffordWilson
Warm familiar scents drift softly from the oven, And imprint forever upon our hearts That this is homeand that we are loved.
It wasn't until I worked in the Perth Hospital kitchen in the 1970s that I began hearing stories about the ghosts that haunted their halls at night.
On harsh, frigid January days, when the winds are relentless and the snow piles up around us, I often think of our small feathered friends back on the Third Line. I wonder if the old feeder is still standing in the orchard and if anyone...
The air was fresh and crisp and had a distinct smell which was a mixture of the dried leaves on the ground and the smoke from the chimneys and the sweet ripe apples that were still clinging onto the branches in the orchard behind the...
We need only to close our eyes and we are back on the Third Line, walking up the lane, through the yard and entering the bright, warm kitchen. We are home again.
