It is laundry day for this tired face, and I am actually quite enjoying the process this frosty morning. I have peppermint tea scorching in our new (but ancient) mold-green teapot that is in fact shaped like a very wide-eyed chicken. Or maybe it is a rooster. My farm animal savvy is not the sharpest these days. Either way, home is a nice space to be when the coldness hangs outside in the air, so heavy that you can almost see it.
Time is a bit of a strange concept for me right now. It feels as if it is slipping by like the blink of soft lashes...I cannot lull it, yet I know this is a good thing. My days are draped with the familiarity of routine as of late. In a way, I like that. I feel that in the present, I am wearing it well. I am really beginning to savour my days spent often alone, and my later nights of cafe work. It is a temporary fit, I realize this, but for know it is better than okay; it is startlingly satisfying. I have a few interesting side projects on the go...messing around with words and with art, keeping my creative side somewhat less than starving. I have also been taking to my yoga mat far more in the past weeks, treading the blocks to my favourite space of heat and open-heartedness...having the sweat lace off my body...down my legs, along my spine, and across my cheekbones again and again. It is good to feel nourished in these ways. I have come to know afresh that I crave, among other things, creative expression and care slash challenge for my body--I need these elements in my world to keep me feeling focussed, achieving balance.
I feel the shift of seasons stirring again...thank God and the stars above...I know perhaps this sounds a touch mental seeing as it is minus thirty-fazillion and dropping in our city at present, but I think somehow that spring is nearer that we may realize. Or maybe I am falling into optimism as a last-ditch method of survival...
Regardless, I am ready to peel the layers of winter off. And I think I am pretty accurate in saying that we all are, by now. I am primed for rubber boots and bare arms, afternoon walks and iced coffee, the river aflow once again, bicycle hangouts and reading in the park.
Loves, nothing here's for sure (to quote a little Page France)...but it is nice to know that the changing seasons (whether early, late, or somewhere in between) are something stable, something unwavering. I like being able to remind myself of that, especially when things seem blurred or inconsistent. Okay and okay. I have officially spent too much time hunched over my slender computer's keyboard...here's to the day ahead. Happy birthday, dear Hilary. You are so so loved!
So long, farewell...(Meg, you can finish the rest of that lil nombre yourself, okay?!)
RB
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