solstice
holly & ivy
two fallen-down cedar trees
baby bantam chickens
I am parched for some good Asheville fun. Knoxville is drowning me. Oh, the 'villes.
Solstice is coming up and I think I will be celebrating it mostly solo, as usual. A meal with the fam, of course, but no real celebration-of-light. I wish you all could be here for those days, at some point. What I really wish is that more people would understand my aversion to Christmas as well as my simultaneous love of wintertime festivities. Maybe one day when my farm is a hippie commune we can all celebrate the longest day of the year together.
2 comments:
I hear the call and am coming, if slowly. Today was our first real snow; after a special outing with the boss, I witnessed central park clothed in a thin whiteness. It will remain perfect and joyous for but a dash of time, but was enjoyed nonetheless.
As I read this I am turning my parched face up towards the fan, to imagine what the cold breath of winter might be.
my whole body feels to be on fire after a long ride over the cement corridors that order our life here in florida. i too have strong feelings of the dreadful ways people end their year. i am surrounded by people who ooze stress and angst, and who seem to be merely surrendeding themselves to the inertia of generations. christmas is a kindred feeling to me, but it is expressed in a way that is quite.. anemic here.
but just now my dad brought my 2 fresh snickerdoodles (tradition with a capital T in my family), and I hear mockingbirds singing, and I can even spot hints of crimson in the forest if I could the virginia creeper and the soft brollie heads of the swamp mallows.
i want to feel close to the earth at this time, when the year draws to a soft hush. enjoy your land wyn, and jane enjoy the snow and the many occasions to wear mittens and scarves. as for solstice and this season at large, i hope you are both able to find in it a soft repose and find times to feel close to the earth.
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