In the Land of Winter

In the land of winter, 

birch trees glow in gold morning light, 

and hemlocks bow to greet the ice-bound land. 

Dense 

snow-quiet, 

cracks open 

with the clattering of iced-bone branches. 

Warm sunlight pries away the grip of ice.

One by one, small, half-tube bits, 

clink down to the crusted snow.

Blessed with ice magic here at RavenWood, 

and grateful that it has been gentle.

Not too thick, and no high winds 

has saved us from power outages. 

For me, the loss of electricity

means hauling water, cooking on 

the wood stove, and using the "Luggable Lou". 

Not to mention daily forays on snowshoes 

to a hole dug way down in the snow 

to empty said bucket. 

Sparkling moments, crystalline forms, 

and expanses of blue-white landscapes:

I am under the Ice Queen's enchantment. 

Still awaiting the arrival of the new heater, 

my studio sits, frozen and buried in the snow. 

A quickening within me promises

the birth of new work, though, as it is 

with my cycles of creativity, 

exactly what it looks like is a mystery. 

 I balance walking, shoveling, and bringing in

 wood with afternoon tea and a good book. As the 

semester progresses, there will be more school-prep, 

more student needs, more demands on my time.

For now, I find myself in the moment,

feeling the weight and texture of the wood I carry, 

and my body's appreciation of gentle movement 

and deep breathing. 

Things on my long list don't seem as urgent as they

did a month ago. I am trusting in divine timing 

and the profoundly beneficial gift of 

rest and regeneration. 

"Blue Night", watercolor on paper, 4"x4"