A Beginning.

The new year has begun and brought with it the snow of January. *Sigh* January has to be the most boring month of winter. This year even more so. The snow makes the world seem like a blank page or canvas waiting to be written or painted on. There's nothing to see but the blank white of the page.
And then the anticipation begins. What will become of this blank page? Will it bring forth a glorious collage of colors or the flowing words of poetry? What will come from this beginning?