A soft song fills my ears and I can see a gentle breeze disturbing the trees
The air in the house is still, not yet having mixed with the wind
I step outside and as fresh air fills my lungs, an ache of discomfort and a wave of relief overtake me

The bulbs in the paper bags have all sprouted, the leaves yellow from a lack of sunlight
Ash and dirt cover my hands as I bury the paperwhites further into the earth
I cover the soil with the leaves and flowers of seasons past,
Allowing death to pave the way for life

As the sky begins to clear and unseen flames are put to rest
An uneasy peace fills our city as it slowly comes back to life
The ash falling from the sky has begun to settle,
Creating a thin layer of off white on everything exposed to the sky

It may be January, but it will never get cold enough for morning frost here
This is the closest we will get to snow in LA