Drips from the trees.
Ab le arbores gutta.
How quickly time passes! Already more than half of January is gone, and in less than two weeks we shall be at Candlemas — Imbolc — again. In the Old Calendar that is the traditional beginning of spring, in spite of cold, of frost or snow.
This morning everything was white with frost — bare trees, grass, roads. And then came the light of morning, revealing the transience that lies behind everything in our lives.