It seems like everything sleeps in winter, but it’s really a time of renewal and reflection...

 My boy Robinson:



In a drear-nighted December, 
Too happy, happy brook, 
Thy bubblings ne'er remember 
Apollo's summer look; 
But with a sweet forgetting, 
They stay their crystal fretting, 
Never, never petting 
About the frozen time.     

John Keats





































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