It’s cold here. Ice covers everything in cold and fragile glass.
My fingers turn numb unable to function out of doors. My muscles are tired after hours outside. I want to curl up and hibernate, read books and play video games. I turned on the oven to keep warm, made cookies with my sisters. I eat in the kitchen off the serving dishes too impatient to make it to the dining room. This is the time of year to let your mind go wild and drum up the ideas shelved in other seasons. This is the fallow time to listen to dark music and crawl outside that hard shell. This is the time to be vulnerable.
I keep listening to the song Red Right Ankle by the Decemberists, and I can’t shake it. It’s stark and real, and so close.
I want to be that close again.
This dark month I will paint, love and celebrate the darkness. This is the time of remembrance and new beginnings. The darkness is so potent and fertile. What will you plant? What plans have you made?