It is interesting that the “dead” of winter provides the most beautiful and open landscape. The fallow fields can now be traversed in all directions and we are not confined to the cut and maintained trails. I can unhook the leash on my black terrier and watch her thrill and throng through the golden grass. Oh how I wish I could describe the enchantment that winter light holds within my soul, how freely and softy the light moves through the humble wood and sets the brush a fire. I will gladly pause from the season of green growth to have this light and space.
The death of a loved one or the end of a season in ones life is never easy, but if we allow ourselves the time and space to walk through winter fields there can open for us a beautiful clarity and freedom. The air is thin and cold, and stings the face, but the light is soft and there is space for hope to dwell.
1/3/2018