Uncle Nickolas had returned from his long winter journey;
it was a cold winter night.
it was a cold winter night.
We snuggled under warm blankets,
sipping hot cocoa,
munching ginger snaps.
A fire blazed, the candles flickered, all was quiet.
Uncle Nickolas had often told us forest stories.
A silent tree falling;
robins snoring;
owls watching through the night.
A silent tree falling;
robins snoring;
owls watching through the night.
As we peered through the windows,
we asked Uncle Nickolas,
who walks in the forest when we don’t?
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2 comments:
The delightful Christmas tale continues. I can hear small voices naming who walks in the forest when we don't. Love "robins snoring."
The arching trees shelter the visitors. Even with the snow, this is a warm image that works with the story text.
this makes me want to go sledding with them!
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