Saturday December 1st
It appears that the clouds are not through with us, settling in for a longer visit, unusual for this early in the season, but not unwelcome. When nature is doing her washing like Tom Bombadil’s lady skipping beside the River Withywindle, I find myself collecting treasures to bring inside; mossy branches, dried leaves, pinecones I close the drapes early, light candles, put on music and gather art supplies around the fireplace, pour a glass of wine and light the fire, ready for the guest to arrive. Rumi says, “Stars burn clear all night till dawn. Do that yourself, and a spring will rise in the dark with water your deepest thirst is for.” We’ll see.
