He was steadfast in his belief that winter could only bring empty promises and a hopeless yearning that life could be more than it really is. She had gone for a trip back to her family for the month as she did every year, but he could only think of the wet snow footprints she left that evening. That image seared into his mind in compensation for the lack of that fragrant perfume he woke up to every morning, Every year was harder then the next if only for the reason that she seemed more distant, more apprehensive of the purpose of their relationship. He felt that she continued this relationship for the sake of convenience that his job brought for both. He noticed the merry cheer of his humble neighbours, always thankful for the winter to come and beauty it always provided. He always failed to see the splendour of winter, seeing it as an oppressive afront to the less brutal and more dignified autumn. The death the autumn brought upon the world had the loveliness of its once green leaves. He felt that winter covered up the beautiful death that autumn brought and made the world dreary. He then remembered of the forest walks he had with his wife right after her trip with her family. That is how they always dealt with her long absence, he never seemed to remember all those times. Maybe because those times were always used to tackle the issues, they had with each other. It was never easy to resolve conflict when the cold sieged them at every side. When she came back this year, they did their annual forest trip. They saw the huddled masses that were the sparrows that sought familiar comfort in the warmth of their bodies against the piercing cold. Sleuthing fox could always be seen behind the mass of tree, tracking its next prey. They felt how humbled they could be basking under the stars never-ending lights. The iced river and sombre forest always provide them comfort that worldly goods could never provide, that of something ephemeral but at the same time eternal. Feeling that the forest and river might change over time, but would they always exist in one form or another for them, as a shelter from their worries. There they were, cowered over the midnight fire, hoping for a comet to fly by. She always reminding him the beauty they have here is the beauty their love brings to each other. He always wondered why he barely remembered these blissful nights, not remembering how these nights always leads to greater light when woken up by the morning’s sun.