A Winter Retreat
As the cliche goes: a me-time (a gravely needed one, at that)Hours of road monotonythe GPS, a self-imposed dictatorshiptired, bored, no more beauty in the snow...thena private gateway;a much anticipated spectacle:The Inn.A compelling magnificence.No need for a color, a shade, or hue;a winter embrace of splendor;the smolder of her fireplace:I feel home.Spacious beyond the eye's capacity,not at all an inn of limits;high-risers' luxury at hand;many may deem impersonal,out of futile ha...