We're going on day four of a rare winter ice storm here in Texas.
And with colds setting in for two of the boys and feeling a bit of cabin fever myself, I took the opportunity to get out a bit.
Out into the world.
The natural world...the real world.
I know by now that even if it is raining, or cloudy, or hot as
or in this case freezing, it does my soul good to get out.
I always feel more centered, more focused, more patient having spent a bit of time outside.
Even when it is 17 degrees outside.
The ever curious, Mabel came along.
Maybe she was as excited as I was to see what we could find right in and around our own yard.
The gathering included
cedar that smelled heavenly
mistletoe in bloom
holly with red berries
As I walked, my mind began to wander...as it does.
In poetry, winter is often linked to death. But to me, the starkness of the gray-white background makes everything come alive.
Winter is not at all about death. Its about rest, and clarity.
Not only do I see the bare shapes of the trees, the vibrant reds of the cardinal, but I see what's important in my life laid out before me like a grocery list.
Gathering greenery to deck the halls.
Gathering ideas and thoughts and perspective along the way.