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(written Nov 27,2011)
Late November, that mysterious time of year when the leaves have fallen, the dark comes early, and a coolness bites the air; yet oftentimes like today the sun still appears to cast an amber glow to the sky and to life.
It is a time of turning inward. And a time that calls my name.
Since my youth, images and memories have embedded in my personal blueprint connecting me to this season; Curling up with a journal or a thick novel & a cup of chamomile tea. Fireplaces. Early bedtimes. Piles of blankets. Anticipation of Christmas. The time of year when my husband and I first started dating in late 2008; the way we spent most of our early courtship by the fireplace, in the kitchen making soups, on the sofa watching foreign films, hours, days, months in bed.
An odd time, as well, perhaps to come out of hiding. It has been awhile.
And an adventure. The months since my last post have been filled with sleepless nights and full days...colored by Love, beauty, and hardship. The leaves seem to have settled, though. My son, now almost 8 months old, is sleeping better, crying less, smiling more. We are both settling into a new rhythm during the days, mother & son. The gifts of the season.
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