Crimson embers of fire crackle, Beneath the pale moon light. The stars they twinkle like tiny freckles, Upon the face of the night. The sun awakens, from its slumbers, Naked vegetation shivers with delight. For they are scarce, they’re few in number, Desperate for the light. The season sets a spell of slumber, Upon the many lives, Of plants and animals growing fonder, To sleeping day and night. This too shall pass, It just takes might, Time will change, The clock will strike. A day will come, Where we can surrender the fight, Of surviving these testing hardships, But until then. Goodnight. Check out Natasha’s blog by clicking here and…