Saying Farewell To Winter ...

It's late. It's quiet. I wrote to The Muse a little while ago. (She texted while I was sitting at Dendur last night before the show.) I listened to several of the albums that came in the mail today. (The new Bowie, How To Destroy Angels, Inc.) The morning had the usual connect-y time with Bug, over bagels, as is our way.

The heart of the day, though, was at the local arboretum. It was overcast and snowing and though the Equinox is not for a few days yet, it felt like a necessary chance to say goodbye to my beloved Winter. So E and I went and walked the paths through the trees, ready to wake, and the hearty yellow flowers that sprouted early and who must've been confused.

I drank so deeply from the well. It was heaven. It was threshold. It was Otherworld. It was so very, very still, and I could have walked those paths forever. I wanted to freeze that moment, so I could live in it, remember it, six months from now when the summer heat takes all of my willpower, but that's not how it works.

So I was fully present. I let the snow fall and caught it on my tongue and thanked The Lady and the spirit of Winter for all of the strength I get during the dark third of the year. The Wheel turns, and I should not be the one to stop it, no matter how much I wish I could.

Thank you thank you thank you.
And goodnight.