Lor, thank you, this seems like such a small memory, yet it symbolizes so much, doesn’t it? I marvel at the hardy people who thrive in winter—I find it both a beauty and a struggle. xo
The veil between worlds is supposedly at its thinnest at the beginning of November, is that right? But to me it always feels thin at this time of year, too. A lot of birthdays and deathdays in my family, at the same time as this part of the world is waking up. It always feels a little overwhelming for me. I wonder if it’s the same for you, given the day that’s just passed. Anyway, hugs, if you are feeling a lot right now. 💚 (And I love ‘snowlight’!)
Of all seasons, winter can be the most challenging for me. Any reminders of the magic of snow are a gift. Thank you. Now I feel I can bid it adieu with graciousness freed from a twinge of resentment. This year my 12 year old dog has gone quickly blind as spring has emerged. Knowing he can’t see this land he loves anymore brings a bittersweetness to the explosion of green. I am taking it in for two now and appreciating the value of smell and sound that helps him navigate quite deftly.
Lor, thank you, this seems like such a small memory, yet it symbolizes so much, doesn’t it? I marvel at the hardy people who thrive in winter—I find it both a beauty and a struggle. xo
"My attic of anxieties..." Another lovely piece, thank you! Your word weavings truly touch this tender heart who also notices so much.
My mum, also ashes in the ground beside my dad, was born 110 years ago on March 23. Thank you for this exquisite song of snow and light.
The veil between worlds is supposedly at its thinnest at the beginning of November, is that right? But to me it always feels thin at this time of year, too. A lot of birthdays and deathdays in my family, at the same time as this part of the world is waking up. It always feels a little overwhelming for me. I wonder if it’s the same for you, given the day that’s just passed. Anyway, hugs, if you are feeling a lot right now. 💚 (And I love ‘snowlight’!)
Of all seasons, winter can be the most challenging for me. Any reminders of the magic of snow are a gift. Thank you. Now I feel I can bid it adieu with graciousness freed from a twinge of resentment. This year my 12 year old dog has gone quickly blind as spring has emerged. Knowing he can’t see this land he loves anymore brings a bittersweetness to the explosion of green. I am taking it in for two now and appreciating the value of smell and sound that helps him navigate quite deftly.