Ah, is this not happiness?

by Danielle Charles

The light already is fading as I get home, and I shut the door behind me on a howling wind and air that is damp and cold, and seems to penetrate to the bone. But inside, there is a fire in the woodstove to warm my hands next to, sparkly lights strewn up to brighten the dark shadows, bits of evergreen here and there to make up for the lack of green in the drab November landscape.  And it occurs to me, as the sensations of such things warm my toes and my heart both, how lovely it is to be dark and cold outside, so that I might feel such warmth and brightness within.