wild & open

I have such a strange relationship with winter….complex….not so simple as love/hate….

but defintely ambiguous…..

love the deeper places I can go to hibernate & restore….

love the wild & open sky…..the raw & barren places which open new sensibilities….

love the white glare & the icy trees in sunlight….& wearing boots….

really dislike (hate the word hate ya know) being cold…..

really dislike being drowned in gray skies for long periods….

really dislike missing beach walks because it’s too cold….

dreams are more vivid in winter for me….I am astonished at how deeply I am drawn to the cold earth….such a mythical time of waiting…of cycles & sleep…

In Blue

———————————————————

I said to my soul, be still, & wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing;

wait without love

For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith

But the faith & the love & the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought,

for you are not ready for thought:

So the darkness shall be the light, & the stillness the dancing.

Whisper of running streams, & winter lightning.

The wild thyme unseen & the wild strawberry,

The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy

Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony

Of death & birth.

T.S. Eliot

lookin’ for adventure….