The Evening Stroll

Bundled in layers, I set out for a brisk evening walk through the park, the bare trees silhouetted against the twilight sky. The air carried a faint smokiness from distant chimneys, mingling with the clean scent of the approaching night. As I wandered along the winding path, the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot became my steady companion.

A man tending to a small firepit near a clearing waved me over. “A little warmth for the traveler,” he said, gesturing to the flames. Grateful, I approached and stretched out my hands toward the crackling fire. “The winter teaches us to treasure warmth,” he said, poking the embers. “Not just of the body, but of the heart. Every moment is a spark to cherish.”

I nodded, watching the flames dance, and felt his words ignite something within me. As I continued my stroll, the lingering warmth of the fire seemed to burn brighter in my chest, a reminder of the quiet gifts winter offers.