Winter Thoughts

Winter lingers under a dim crescent moon

but I can't sleep. 

I rise from the warm quilts and tip toe out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. 

The cold and damp seeps into my soul while I stand at the window,

waiting for the sunrise and listening for the tea kettle, while the cat, Maggie, snakes around my legs. 

We heard a coyote cry the other night, very close. 

It reminded me that we are just visitors to this wild place we call Earth. 

And most times we are the ungrateful guests. 

With the sun up, it's time for our morning walk. 

No matter how sleepless the night, 

I can't let down these two faithful travelers on the road of life. 

So, I leave the tea-kettle simmering while I slip on my old raincoat with the pocket full of treats. 

And one slimy ball. 

We pass the bench that is a shady oasis in the summer sun - 

now patiently waiting in its moss covered glen.

(some of my gatherings sit on the bench while the slimy ball awaits...) 

We walk by the sleeping garden with its bounty of seed for winter birds. 

We stop by ancient trees with secret stories left untold. 

Kindred spirits with roots firmly planted in the ground, 

But always reaching for the sky. 

Frosty webs, a reminder that all is connected by the web of life. 

We can't begin to know how delicate the balance.

One thing depends upon the other.

 Through infinity. 

Each beam of light sent out eons ago.....

yet with faith that it would reach its final destination. 

A ray of light to warm a small creature, the mighty, ancient tree, 

or a woman's heart on a cold winter morning. 

A flock of crows (or the correct term - the unfortunately labeled - 'murder' of crows)

noisily steals me from my reverie, 

and I turn back towards home. 

I am reminded to be ever mindful of the light I send forth. 

Because I never know its final destination or effect.

But I can choose the quality and know that it always reflects back to me. 

I think of these things as I come back inside, light the warming fire, and pour my morning tea.

It is especially challenging to keep up spirits

 during these dreary, cold winter days and long, long nights. 

I treat myself to the simple pleasures of a few pots of primrose...

The hyacinth bulbs I planted after Thanksgiving are sweetly blooming and scenting the room. 

They help to keep my spirits up. I knew back then that I would need it now. 

There is nothing left to do but stay warm and cozy and keep busy with the necessary tasks of daily life, 

wishing for spring, but knowing we have a while to wait. 

So I bake Oatmeal Raisin Cookies to fill the cookie jar, 

and put on a pot of home-made Chicken Rice Soup.

Is there anything better on a cold, winter day? 

Maybe home-made Irish Brown Bread?

I have made this so often, I barely need to look at the recipe. 

But it is these simple rituals that keep me grounded when Cabin Fever sets in. 

I'll spend my day attending to what needs to be done, 

and then reward myself with a little needlework after dinner. 

I have a simple gift idea for Valentine's Day to show you next time. 

xoxo

Thank you, Dear Friends for your sweet visits. 

Kindred Spirits on this Winding Road of Life.

xoxo

"My coat and I live comfortably together. It has assumed all my wrinkles does not hurt me anywhere, has moulded itself on my deformities, and is complacent to all my movements, and I only feel its presence because it keeps me warm. Old coats and old friends are the same thing."

-Victor Hugo-

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