Midwinter's approach

What magicks come to us on the changing wings of the weathers of autumn, as midwinter draws near and we must remind ourselves of the beauties of cold weather and the far-off hope of spring? These are all known to and cherished by us all. We gather by fireplaces; we cook amazing meals. We raise our glasses; we remember to hug each other, even when laughing at timeworn tales and jokes. We remember.

And as warm and sentimental as that notion may be, we also look into the faces of the new and the unexpected. My Dear Old Person and I spend as much time as we can walking the beaches we love, and he is always hoping against hope for Treasure. Really. You never know. Someone's 18th century silver might wash up any old day. But the unexpected turns up all around us: in this case, The Unexpected showed itself in the form of rare, gloriously beautiful Sandhill Cranes, who made a landing in a quiet field near Publix. We've often heard them in quiet spring mornings at Gatorbone, where their ritualized dance of romance is unmistakable. But we hardly expected to hear them - or dear, me, SEE them! - casually feeding in recently cleared fallow land so close to A1A.

We took pictures. We stared. We might have drawn a crowd, if we'd been watching North Atlantic right whales on the beach. It was a late afternoon, overcast and quiet, as though some glamour had been cast; perhaps the most precious among us were kept safe from much notice. So here they are; with or without the glamour my guess is you'll see right into the magick.

So what particular beauties are on offer when the clouds lower in the skies and the winds take their chill from the northeast? The season of gift-sharing draws nigh and the long, dark afternoons can make time for refining stitches. Colors and textures, contrasting and complimentary: matches you thought would work really don't, and matches you didn't expected can be made as the threads and textures show themselves in subtle winter light and shadow. We had a lovely, quiet holiday dinner. I hope you did the same, along the scale of boisterous and lively most pleasing to your own tribe. Warm leftovers and helpful hands foreshadowed the magick of mid-winter at our hearthside, leavened by windblown beach walks and shared hopes. Welcome, Christmas (and thank you, Dr. Seuss):
Fah who rah-moose Fah who rah-moose
Welcome, Welcome Welcome, Welcome
Dah who dah-moose Dah who dah-moose
Christmas day is in our grasp, So long as we have hands to clasp So long as we have hands to clasp...



MadriGalz excitement may just possibly skew this, slightly. Stay tuned for performance details, but we know we'll be appearing at Creekside Dinery and Saltwater Cowboy's on December 17/18 and 22/23.