Our Wood in Winter

There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself. ~Ruth Stout

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories. ~From the movie An Affair to Remember

Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter.
Who would think that those branches would turn
green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

It seems such a long time ago that Dixie and I walked through these trees without mud sticking to our feet (or paws) and me wearing a flimsy teeshirt.

The holdiays have now passed. Candlemas (or Imbolc) is a mere month away. But our wood is still cold, dark and empty.

We walk
Hold our breath
Sure we have been here before
Hesitate
Until the wind turns my cheek pink
and you get restless

There is a magic in our wood
In the winter this magic feels dark
Like a Goddess unappeased
I find myself making mental plans
for a festival of light,
hope for the return of spring.