Most flowers are already dead in the crisp cold. The park is empty. The children are staying inside to play. Yet, some flowers are not dead. Some decided to hung onto life, maybe to shine even brighter. May we stay alive, my friend, my sister, no matter what happened in our past. Every breath of the crisp air is a gift. May we inhale deeply. May we stay alive. Even in the crisp cold. Blessings.