Staying somewhat cozy in my treehouse (it’s still got some caulking to do) watching the birds come to and from my recently filled bird feeder. First bird of the day was my namesake, Chickadee.
This is our first Christmas without my grandmother here in physical form and we miss her. But, her beauty lives on in her Christmas Cactus which is covered in blooms bringing color and life to this season of new family traditions. I also have her favorite amaryllis about to bloom on my dining room table. What a lifetime gift of the love of growing things both of my grandmothers bestowed upon me.
The light begins to return today. The season of the dormant seed.. potential and hope. This is my favorite season.. this part of the life cycle.. for the promise of life being held within the shell deep of the seed in the ground as the visions that come after the harvest now must lie in wait.. and, for the potential of each seed.. between now and the great turning in early February when the light shifts to a sweet pastel yellow is the time to consider the seeds to be planted the coming cycle. As a tender of plants and soil and other living things this metaphor for this season speaks to me. What seeds will you plant this year?
I have sat in this spot on this river for 20 years. I never tire of it or wish I was somewhere else when I am here. When I visit this spot something inside me remembers, wakes up, and feelings flow like the water that is held between the banks. This is a place I call home. A place where my heart melts and my mind calms..
... with a chance of rain ...