Autumn and winter danced in a spiral in and out and back again. Amber jeweled
beech leaves hung from branches, but winter could not wait and flung October
aside for a spell. I grieved the end of the orange days, for the forest is a magical
cathedral when the rusty beeches take center stage. Two feet of snow fell the day
before Samhain, and we in the higher elevations were the lucky ones for a change
with lots of dry snow and not many power outages.
Then all of a sudden spring came, with temperatures in the 60's, and the
amber orange beeches reclaimed their moment with a vibrant glare at winter.
Inside, warm-toned wood and walls and collections echoed
the forest's celebration, and I wandered, noticing.
The green mantle of mosses sparkled, and Pasha and I enjoyed sitting
in the unusual warmth and bright sunshine.
One morning, on my early morning journey to school, I had to work at
keeping on as a magical mist hung in the valleys.
welcome and a cottage has sprouted in the clearing. Soon, but not soon enough for
me, a roof and windows and doors and all the rest will be in place. I'm very much
looking forward to the break between semesters, for there are shelves and tables
to be built and enchantments to be conjured and much, much gratitude to be stirred
into paint buckets and sung into the wood of this new place.




