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Carmine Hazelwood's avatar

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

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Amanda Verdery's avatar

"My attic of anxieties..." Another lovely piece, thank you! Your word weavings truly touch this tender heart who also notices so much.

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Carmine Hazelwood's avatar

Thank you for joining me on this journey to wonder, Amanda. xo

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Grimalkin's avatar

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.

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Carmine Hazelwood's avatar

Thank you for reading along, Grimalkin, I am glad this struck a chord with you. Blessings of spring to you. xo

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Owl Green's avatar

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’!)

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Carmine Hazelwood's avatar

Sending you a hug back, Rebecca. It feels so poignant yet hopeful, this juxtaposition of mortality amid the great current toward emerging life. My father died in November, as the year died. And yes, the transition to November is seen by many cultures as a thin time, a time of remembering ancestors. Samhain, All Souls Day, the Festivals of Ancestors. Maybe you know that the Monarch butterflies begin to arrive each year in Mexico on or around Día de los Muertos (Nov 1-2), and they are seen as bearing the souls of relatives who have passed on to the otherworld. I will write about that sometime. Thank you for your kind thoughts. xo

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Stacey Couch's avatar

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.

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Carmine Hazelwood's avatar

You are not alone. Though snow is quite beautiful I struggle with our long winters, too. A revelation for me is how much I missed the snow and cold after experiencing so little of them this year — just enough to feel precious. Hugs to you and your beloved dog, may the spring hold you close. xo

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