Night falls. The wind crashes upon the house with relentless force. The chime by the balcony screams to the fierceness of the hysterical element. One day, it cajoles it like a friend, and now it slaps it to swaying and spinning as from an adversary.
In the kitchen, the vent rattles. Feet away, the living room blares the voice of Dr. Seuss' "The Cat in the Hat," a winter special. The woodstove in the corner spits a "pop;" flame red logs fighting endlessly to keep wearied bones warm.
The inhabitants are tired. One gives a cough--lungs rattling like the vent in the kitchen. They all accept winter's presence. It is what it is. A reminder to the cycle of nature and of life.