In the past two weeks, the dogs’ second ‘big’ walk of the day has happened well after dark. Truth be told, it has been less of a wonderful, wild roaming through open fields and more of a two mutts on leads walking the streetlight lit sidewalks of Providence late, late at night.
Today, we broke out of that pattern and arrived at the farm just as the sun was dropping fast. The light was hard, the wind stiff, but sometimes pushing through cold air and dramatic light can be just the tonic for a tired spirit.
That is my answer of late when people ask how I am. Ungrounded. Untethered. Unmoored.
In a word, drifty, floaty — wait, in how many words?
Friday is my favorite, the solstice.
A time to go deep, quiet and soft — a hibernation into white lights, white sage and an excess of candles burning all through the day and into the night.
Right now, I am thinking a long winter’s nap is about the best thing ever, but before I go — how about this lady of the lake*, hmm?
*okay, so not a lake but a pond — slide me a bit of poetic license here, okay?