In the past two weeks, the dogs' second 'big' walk of the day has happened well after dark. Truth be told, it has been less of a wonderful, wild roaming through open fields and more of a two mutts on leads walking the streetlight lit sidewalks of Providence late, late at night.
Today, we broke out of that pattern and arrived at the farm just as the sun was dropping fast. The light was hard, the wind stiff, but sometimes pushing through cold air and dramatic light can be just the tonic for a tired spirit.
That is my answer of late when people ask how I am. Ungrounded. Untethered. Unmoored.
In a word, drifty, floaty -- wait, in how many words?
I like December. It is swift, cold and brief. It can also be filled with light, magic, sugarplums and also, grief.
Friday is my favorite, the solstice.
A time to go deep, quiet and soft -- a hibernation into white lights, white sage and an excess of candles burning all through the day and into the night.
Right now, I am thinking a long winter's nap is about the best thing ever, but before I go -- how about this lady of the lake*, hmm?
*okay, so not a lake but a pond -- slide me a bit of poetic license here, okay?
P.S. given that my word for 2013 is HOME, I am feeling good (and truly flattered) that Apartment Therapy would list my little space in their round-up of Best of 2012 tours.