Words by Siobhan Henderson
Winter is approaching, and I don’t know how to feel,
I miss the days of summer warmths, the grass on my bare heel.
Oh, dark and windy Scotland, how colder now you grow,
I miss my winter childhood, I miss racing through the snow.
The winters of my childhood are nowhere to be seen.
The leaves are finally changing, but the world will still stay green.
In deepest, darkest winter, snow comes but doesn’t set.
The sleet will come, the ice will melt, Earth laughs with a sweat.
Her summer times are warmer, fires rage on through the North,
The Cairngorms set alight, while the soil craves winter frost.
The winters of my childhood are changing every year.
The robins, badgers, foxes, all hide away in fear.
The winters of my childhood are shroud in winter wonder,
Reindeer dust, and fairy frost, and hooves which clap like thunder,
Oh, take me back, I beg and plead, but still the wind whistles on,
Caledonia’s watching, but those winters are long gone.
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