The return of the light

A  kobocha squash 'sun' with shadow is encircled by gleaned rosehips,  garden dug carrots, the last stored peppers, and blueberry leaves radiating out in a sunburst pattern. Yellow big leaf maple leaves form a blanket beneath with black velvet fabric representing the long, dark nights of winter.  

The winter solstice marks the beginning of winter, it's true. But rather than nestling in for a long winter's nap, I instead gain a heightened awareness of the extra moments of light each day, finding myself lost in dreams of seeds sprouting, visualizing the next season's garden and busily filling my head with planning. It's a conscious effort to stay present in reality of winter's embrace. Sigh. Followed by a deep breath. (see previous post if you missed it)

But, as I am SO fond of saying, it's all about BALANCE.

And so, my plan is to allow myself some adequate steeping time, to better savor the resulting, more deeply flavored days of wintertime. Fire is my self prescribed therapy (and part of age old Solstice traditions) for slowing things down and settling into an introspective trance that provides some soothing, gentle guidance in just BEING for a time. 

This is winter's gift to us if we are mindful and fortunate enough to be able to slow the pace, nourishing our previously harried, rushing, production centered selves.

May this winter solstice find you some time to wonder and wander.