top of page
  • Writer's pictureShivali Yadav

December to January

It’s December and the flowers have wilted in my garden. Winter has crept in just before the new year and I can feel its chilly fingers on my back. Another year, gone, but seasons come and go just the same. My hands cradle a cup of tea, its warm mist floating up to tint my nose red.

A cat slinks through the dead flowers, turning its icy blue eyes on me. We look at each other for a while, two beings content to exist in the same space in the same period of time. The year is gone and I want to ask the cat what she did this year.

Did it make you happy?

The cat slinks towards me, her paws almost instinctively avoiding the dead plants, and comes to rest near my feet. A small smile touches my lips as I take in the fact that she’s accepted me. A year is gone and I’m marvelling at the little moments of magic that make it all worth it.

The blanket slips from my shoulders, but I pull it up again, shifting my book to adjust it. It’s a good book, something I’ve had lying around my shelf for a while but never thought to read. A year is gone but at least I’m finally doing the things I wanted to.

From the house next door, music wafts into the air, and the sound of laughter follows it. The mother of that family comes into the backyard, a smile resplendent on her face, and she glances at me. I wave at her, and she grins wider and waves back. A year is gone but connections can still be made.

It’s January now and the flowers are going to bloom again in my garden. I can already envisage the vibrant rainbow of colours that will overtake the ground, a hundred little flowers in the form of love letters to nature.

The new year is here and all I can do is make a promise to the universe to do a little better. Read a little more, listen to music and sing at the top of my voice, feed a stray cat and wave to my neighbours. What more can we ask for?

A year is gone but another one comes my way.

14 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


Post: Blog2 Post
bottom of page