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where hope grows

I grew up in Upstate New York, where the very first signs that spring was on the horizon were the daffodils that poked intrepid little heads up through the snows that wouldn’t yet melt for a few weeks (or more). For the longest time, daffodils were my favorite flowers because of that, and they still hold a special place in my heart.

When you’re still in the depths of the cold hard embrace of an Upstate New York winter, after the fun of snow has become the drudgery of slush that has frozen over and cold toes that don’t seem to ever get warm, that first little hope of spring is a most welcome thing

It seems we are facing much the same feeling with this pandemic right now. We are all so done with sitting at our windows, looking out on a world that is filled with hidden dangers, and we just want to be able to go to the movies, and out for coffee with friends.

Vaccines offer us that first hint of hope that our year-long winter of disease is coming to a close, but just like those first daffodils herald a spring that may still be a long ways off, so too does the promise of immunity come with a caveat. Many a blizzard has buried those first daffodils, reprimanding them for sticking their heads up too soon. Returning to our normal lives too soon will bring with it another blizzard of Covid-19 to swat us down and set back our recovery.

Hope grows where vaccines are planted, but immunity takes some time to blossom. So, as we turn the wheel of the year toward Imbolc, let us hope, but remain vigilant.

Happy February, Readers! May it be filled with love and kindness.

Photo by Charles Tyler on Unsplash

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shining lights and quiet nights

We’re less than a week out from Christmas, which hardly seems possible.  I think I maybe finally found the knack of not going overboard on spending for my family this year.  I’m a gifter.  I like to give gifts.

For a lot of people, this time of year can be difficult.  The days are short. The nights are long.  We try to compensate with lights.  We put them on our trees, we put them on our house.  For me, it’s candles.  I love to fill my living room with candles during the holiday season.

It’s a form of what we call “sympathetic magic,” the act of calling something to you by imitation.  What we’re longing for is the sun, so we light our lives up with artificial light to tempt it to return.

The only thing I like better than candles lit against the cold dark of winter, is the cold dark of winter itself.  The winter solstice is Friday, the day of the longest night.  Every day after that the days will grow slowly longer and the wheel will turn, spring will come.  There will be candles in the early evening, but before I go to bed, I will put them all out and spend some time alone in that quiet that only comes in the dark.

It’s a good time to do a self-inventory, to judge your progress against goals, to adjust your attitude toward yourself and others.  Preparation, for you to return with the sun and ready yourself for the growth to come.

At least, that’s my solstice tradition.  Followed on Christmas with family time, food and gift giving.  I hope that however you celebrate, and whatever you celebrate, that this season of good will finds you happy, healthy and hopeful, Readers.

I am more grateful for all of you than you will ever know.

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the chill of winter

It isn’t really winter here in Northern California, because it is, after all, California.  It is, however, colder here now than it was a few months ago.  Cold enough that my early morning writing is being done with my heavy bathrobe on over my pajamas.

I grew up where winters are a little more dramatic, where blizzards could mean days off of school, where I learned to ice skate, and ice fish, on the pond that emptied into Lake Ontario.

I have a lot of fond memories of winter in Upstate New York as a child.  I loved the winter then.  Sledding and skating and snow ball fights.  It would take you longer to get dressed to go out in it than you’d actually spend outside in the snow because it was so cold!  As I got older there was the fun addition of snow mobiles.

I left NY when I was 18, and I’ve been back to visit a time or two, but a blizzard that nearly kept us from getting home kind of soured my taste for it.  And, as I get older, the idea of all of that cold, wet snow and all of the work just to get around in it, makes me think that I’d rather stay here, where the snow doesn’t bury us to the second floor window and the cold rarely nips low enough to freeze.

It took some time to get used to the holidays without snow, but now that I have, I like not having to worry about driving on sheets of ice to get to see my family. As we head into the holiday season, that’s an important consideration.

Still, I’d take a bit of that snow about now if it would help combat the fires here in California.