It has grown cold, snowy, icy. The mornings are chill, stark, and beautiful. We’ve seen the sun more than not, which is a welcomed thing here this time of year when the blankets of dismal grey can last for weeks and weeks. The trees seem more alive to me, in a strange way. Though they have no leaves to sing songs with the winds, there seems to be a slow pulse that I feel. I’ve started to speak more to plants and trees. I offer greetings, blessings, thanks. I’ve started to offer my breath as offering, and it sends a queer chill up my spine that reverberates throughout me. On recent walks, I’ve harvested many poplar buds from fallen branches in the circle of trees I call My Trees. They are mostly poplars, and they stand in a magical formation that is highly charged with eerie, wonderful energy that surrounds me. They are tall, proud, divine. It is not always safe there, and I cannot meditate there the way I would like, I must keep my wits about me at all times. I meditatively walk among them, listening, watching, feeling, but my senses are heightened for danger, also. All the nests are visible in the naked branches, nests built by squirrels, robins, wrens, crows, bluejays, all kinds of local birds whose lives and days I wonder about. I become more and more comfortable in the blistering cold. I feel at home in winter. I let myself experience the frigid temperatures, feeling my lungs tighten, my tears freeze and blur my eyes, the skin on my exposed face go numb. I dress thickly in layers so I might enjoy long walks without getting too cold. It’s quiet, glittery, peaceful and I embrace this season now with grateful welcome. Death is sweet release, if not sorrowful and fearsome, in its dark, mysterious way.
I’m still, but not stagnant. I’m reading, listening, learning, paying attention. I’m not doing much in terms of practical Crafting, but I still have a pull to listen, to be aware and not jump into workings. I’m learning more of my beliefs, the languages of the gods, the way to listen in order to speak, to learn the metaphors, to hear the heartbeat of the Universe instead of the sounds of my own thoughts and voice. This season of stillness is perfectly fitting for introspective work. I will follow the flow of it. Here’s an awesome seasonal song that is quite cheerful and uplifting 🙂