Monday, December 17, 2018

view from the middle of December




Why it surprises me that it's been longer than a month since my last post I can't possibly imagine. Time never, ever stands still. Everybody knows the earth spins just a bit faster in the days before the winter solstice. So maybe your days have been too full to have missed me.
After such an absence my initial impulse is to write a catchup post. I'll resist and make only one comment concerning this interval...it's been much too sunless. Grrr. SAD indeed.
Yes, Jonah Days come to all of us, but endless grey days certainly ramp up the speed at which our energies are consumed.
And the Christmas season tends to tip the scales. Often magnifying and multiplying a dark frame of mind. An image of Jacob Marley encumbered by yards and yards of chains and impossibly inconvenient boxes of gloom comes to mind.


I admit it isn't fair for me to spend time looking through your blog and instagram windows (which have supported my mental and emotional health these past many days, thank you) and not offer you the same opportunity. I will try harder.
The truth, I've been struggling of late.
This Friday began as the many days before it with dense fog. Grumbling to myself about another sunless morning, I had to admit it was beautiful. Humidity and temperature combine to create a hoar frost fairy land.



Still in my pajamas looking out the upstairs gliders into the densest fog we've seen in a long while, I could just barely make out figures moving in the mist just beyond the chicken yard. At first I wondered if they could be very large deer. Then, perhaps a few unusual cows? No! Several blanketed horses were moving as if in slow motion just ahead of a figure on horseback. Now none of my very near neighbors keep horses (though once a mare and her colt managed to escape and go out for a walk across our meadow.)  At just the right moment I was looking out and as mysteriously as they appeared they turned and faded into the mist. Wow. Magical.

After breakfast I sat down in the company of my internet friends and learned that I and my #friend each had been chosen to receive a framed print of a Silver Eye Finch offered in a giveaway by a beautiful business on the other side of the world, Ink and Spindle.


You can only imagine my delight. This was totally unexpected and all the sweeter because of it. I've secretly envied Gretta's internship there years ago. I've dabbled with silk screen printing, on a much smaller scale to be sure,  and have dreamed what it would be like to work in the company of these women.

I am a charter subscriber to Quiltfolk magazine. It is a quarterly, commercial free publication about people who quilt. Each issue is dedicated to a state, or a part of a state. I devour every page. Being a quarterly I lose track of when to expect it. What a joy for it to arrive as one more little proof that I was being cared for.

Westby, Wisconsin is a town just a few miles north of us. Not long ago this little town of 2200 passed a referendum to build a performing arts center onto their middle school/high school. It is now complete and has been the venue for many events. That evening this lovely new auditorium was presenting Isthmus Brass,


an ensemble Jerome and I heard a couple years back in our own historic Temple Theatre. We often talk ourselves out of leaving the house at night, but the weather had turned clear, the roads were dry and the drive short. We also wanted to check out this new arts center. The program was just what we needed to put us in the Christmas mood. They are amazing musicians, mostly teachers in the UW system, though from its many campuses across the state.
As we were heading home Jerome suggested we drive past a house in Westby that he'd seen on a facebook page. Their home and property a holiday light and synchronized music display.  They even have a radio link to their music so you could tune in your car radio to amplify the sound.
I did make an iPhone movie of it but alas the file is too large to fit here. Truth be told I would have trouble living next door to this production but it was fun to visit.

I begin to feel deep disconnect with creation when I'm unable to see the night sky. This night would be the first time in a while with a clear view. As I had earlier in the day, I stood once again in my pajamas at the upstairs sliders looking out , this time on the brilliance just beyond. Happy just to be seeing the thousands of lights in the blackness, I was totally unprepared to be gifted the longest shooting star I'd ever seen. It had a slightly green glow as it arced toward the horizon.
Then, snuggled in bed with my book in hand there came the sound of several coyotes very near the house. Their animated voices make me long to know just what they have to say for themselves.

Just before sleep there came one more blessing on my day,  the unmistakeable call of an owl, soon answered by another. And this lullaby ended my day.
It was a day of delights. Signposts so clear. Multiple gifts of grace.
I wish similar joys to come your way in these days of darkness.

2 comments:

  1. Horses in the mist and a shooting star. I wish I had witnessed these events Sharon. I would swap our damp and dismal days with your hoar frost anytime! I hope that you find a way out of SAD very soon. We have now had the winter solstice and the lighter days are upon us. Happy Christmas. :)

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  2. So much here to enjoy, Sharon! Congrats on the Ink and Spindle win!
    Here's a teaser...Quiltfolk magazine was here in Vermont not long ago. xo

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