Morning

I sit in a quiet house.
The coldness of the place brings a slight chill over me
              and makes my body shutter. 
I reach for the blanket to curl it tighter around me here on the sofa.
Looking out the window - the snow, the cold, the birds playing in flight as the sun peeks out beyond the hills on the horizon.
It's cresting over the lake - ah, the lake in it's beautiful frozen wonder.
Ice fishing huts dotted across this vastness. 
The quiet solitude of being here - being there on the ice. 
As the sun continues to rise - to attempt to warm the day, slowly lighting more of the lake, more of the day.
I feel the warmth inside me creeping as a smile across my face.