Your Story: Cold

It’s time again. It’s time for you to write the story. Todd and I were out driving around when I captured this photo.  Write me a story.

Your Story is a SethSnap series in which you get to decide the story behind the photo.  You can write a story, a poem or even just one word.  You decide.  Open your favorite writing program, turn on the spell check and go!

Visit my store. Visit my galleries.

Cold33

Past Your Story articles:

Your Story
Your Story:Blue
Your Story: Country
Your Story: Blue Bank
Your Story: The View
Your Story: Forgotten
Your Story: Night and Day
Your Story: The Tree
Your Story:Morning
Your Story:House
Your Story:Rain
Your Story:Crackle
Your Story:Winter
Your Story:Front Yard
Your Store:Whispers of darkness

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77 responses to “Your Story: Cold

  1. My story: Oh Lord fill the dry places with water refreshing and abide with me in the wilderness areas of my life until you deliver me.
    Thank you for sharing and good photo shot.

  2. Sway this way. Sway that way. Turn. Dip. Sway. Through the ice covered field she danced. She held out her hands and let the cold caress her fair skin. His drum throbbed in her blood. He beat out a rhythm old as the winter, old as snow. Sway step. Sway step. The wind took her up. It blew out her hair. The frozen grass cracked and crinkled with the breeze. He tapped out a quick beat. Around and around she spun…for the last time she danced in the winter cold before sleeping for the spring

  3. I don’t have a story for the picture, but it looks exactly like our back forty growing up in northern Minnesota.

    I think the “My Story” idea is such a great idea. What an awesome way to encourage participation and a great way to gleam some creativity from others.

    • Thanks! Glad you like my idea. I love Minnesota. But, I’ve only been to MSP area. I do have a good friend who lives in Battle Lake, I think in the summer. We plan to visit her sometime soon.

  4. writing and photography. a picture truly is worth a thousand words. I dig this. inspired me to write something again. btw, thanks for liking my post.

  5. The last time I touched your hand so cold
    I said goodbye
    with a far off longing look
    I saw the opens fields
    Cover in snow
    We were the first
    to leave footprints
    running free
    wild things
    No thought for tomorrow
    No thought of goodbye

  6. Winters companions arenow waiting for spring
    The birds are chirping, a new tune they sing
    I watch the two of you play with a string
    I heard the alarm go off..tring tring
    The way the line up stands silently in wait
    I think, Spring will be early , no chance of it to be late
    I love you winter, but what can we do
    Spring is the time, everyone says, I love you:)

  7. The dry brush crinkles beneath my feet as I walk through the field. I stop and let the quiet settle over me. The bitter coldness numbs my face, nips at my ears, and penetrates through my coat. Of course my feet are cold because I never wear socks. I don’t give it a second thought when I slip on my shoes, but now I long for the warmth of socks. I try to ignore the bitter cold wind and look to the sky. Grey clouds cover the sun, but tomorrow it may get a chance to shine. Despite the cold and greyness of the day, I think of you and wonder where you are.

  8. I stand in the middle,
    between the forest and the field.
    Alone, yet, I am surrounded by beauty.
    Winter captures us at our most vulnerable.
    But, we know a warmth that creates color
    from the dark, gray, days of winter.

  9. As I pulled into the driveway, past the open field where the cold announced itself with colorless grass and snow-capped weeds, I could smell the aroma coming from inside the old farmhouse. It reminded me of winter days spent with an elderly woman who baked bread in an iron oven above the flames in the fireplace. A big pot of stew would have been simmering on top of the the old wood-stove. A house of warmth with delicious aromas, yet the heart of the mistress was as cold as the winter day.

  10. as i looked beyond..
    i thought to catch a glimpse of the end..
    but it is then that the truth came tumbling forward..
    the father i shall go..
    the farther ahead the road will be…
    because what is an end but a fresh start..!

  11. Brittle with ice, the twig snapped under his weight; the sound amplified by the sullen silence of the frozen field. The startled buck searched in vain for the source of the sound, ears pricked and eyes seeking. The hunter held his breath and lifted the site to his eye. The old stag returned to scraping at the barren earth, trying to find something to nourish a stomach that has lived through one too many harsh winters. Breath in…breath out…breath in…breath out pull. Red now bathed the field, sending tendrils of steam into the air as the crows gathered for a welcome winter’s feast.

  12. I’m a bit late, but better late than never…
    Cold…
    bitter cold winds tear at the soul
    biting and gnawing on bones
    stinging eyes, fingers and toes
    forming crystals on things exposed
    the cold is more icy and aloof
    as grey clouds cover the blue
    the sun’s warmth will disappear
    an arctic mood will exist
    because time has its own order
    we must suffer the cold
    till the moment warmth return …

  13. Standing here, admiring the scene, I look around, thinking about a story. Then I realize it’s too damn cold to be standing here, so I head back to the warmth of the car. :-)

  14. Pingback: Cold (Four Seasons) | extraordinarily quiet·

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  18. cows were feeling so cold that they sat beside each other to feel warmer, but one was a stranger that could not get into the group still feeling the harsh and cold winter and snow…

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