Almost always, a swift kick to the curb is followed by an extended hand up.  I simply can’t be blue while watching them shine.

Plant-dyed yarn and time suspended . . . it feels like a holy place.

I sat by the window, letting the sunlight fall on my face, and thought about all that I have gained and lost in the span of a year. 

It’s been such a difficult start to the new year, maybe the toughest ever.  And yet . . .

I am forever inspired by her talent and her courage.

Today’s quiet was like a honeyed balm to my winter-worn spirit.

I wanted to bake in the kitchen, so I gave her a bell to ring if she needed me. She must have rung that bell fifty times.

The pond was frozen over and the cold wind whipped across my face, but we were warmly greeted by the animals.  I think they missed us.

I’m languishing in the stillness, knowing that the demands of life lie just beyond my doorstep.

She road bareback for the first time today.  Later, she collected horsehair from the barbed wire fence and told me all about her plans to have a farm of her own some day.