hot and cold... the fickle minded nature

Last summer the bike trail was green and lush.
The sun and the air were warm and balmy.
The leaves were singing and dancing.
Life’s hustle and bustle was everywhere.

This is the same bike trail in winter.
The sun and the air are cold and indifferent.
The leaves have gone leaving their branches bare and lonely.
Most of all... it’s quiet and eerie.

The creek was boisterous; anyone can hear it from a distance.
The water is rushing; going somewhere and boy was he late!
And it looks like nearby plants wants to come along
Nearer to the water they try to slither some more.

In the winter the creek has slept
Completely unmoving, frozen and still
Plants have gone as far away as they can from its frozen grip
And velvet white has shrouded its deep slumber.