Cold grow the days and dark. Even more the nights, drawing down toward winter’s long sleep. Strange to call the winter dark when her dawning marks the turn and returns us to the light. The trees shed the last of their leaves whether still green, burst to blazing colors, or browned and curled still on the branch, and stand bare. Stark reminders of the way of all things and all we must leave behind to find new life. Try as we might to forget and deny, we are part of this world, bound the same to her cycles and seasons. No forced heat or electric light buzz can change who we are or sever that connection. And so comes the time to let go what we must, to seek warmth and rest, to welcome the dark. New light, new life, will come in its time. Draw in with these days.
Winter’s Edge
Winter’s Edge
Winter’s Edge
Cold grow the days and dark. Even more the nights, drawing down toward winter’s long sleep. Strange to call the winter dark when her dawning marks the turn and returns us to the light. The trees shed the last of their leaves whether still green, burst to blazing colors, or browned and curled still on the branch, and stand bare. Stark reminders of the way of all things and all we must leave behind to find new life. Try as we might to forget and deny, we are part of this world, bound the same to her cycles and seasons. No forced heat or electric light buzz can change who we are or sever that connection. And so comes the time to let go what we must, to seek warmth and rest, to welcome the dark. New light, new life, will come in its time. Draw in with these days.