The snow has been falling all morning and I've been enjoying the day with tea and graph paper. Numbers for active cases continue to rise, the highest they have yet been, and nothing seems to make sense.
There's a lot of editing and proposal work that is in progress on my desk as I walk away from the computer this afternoon, but progress is happening.
The Memoir continues to unfold in surprising and tender ways. This is not a project that will be completed swiftly, at least not yet, but I'm here for it for as long as it takes.
I'm craving the countryside again, and gardens of course. January is the time of taking stock and preparing the ground for planting. I love Virginia, but the city is less and less my home. Visions of a pond with or without koi, a path that ends at a plum tree, a stone statue beside a butterfly bush.
The Way of Peace.
