It's a cold morning here, and I woke before the sun to watch it rise.
Fond thoughts of the past weekend and a love I'm growing into are ample enough to keep me warm, but then again, candlelight and a fresh brew never hurt either....
Hyacinth bulbs are being forced in the kitchen, filling the living spaces with the sweet scent of Purple and Promise. I inhale, take note, and pack a little boy's lunch while watching the light appear through the windows. Home feels better everyday. Hard to believe I'll be on the road again in a month.
These are the green days of the year, and I feel immense potential in the coming season. The world is waking, thawing little by little as the nights grow slowly shorter, and the echo of this stirs inside me. Though there are months left in the winter, I feel an early spring in my bones. It's been enough to make me start praying again. I'm finding gratitude once more easy to come by.
Perspective is such a beautiful thing.
Last year was a battle of sorts and this year, a question mark.
A lovely, bold, challenging question mark.
I'm picking up my pen and my camera, my stationary, my spade and spatula, my torch, my feet, my head, my heart.
Hello again, you.
Let us begin again and again, and if we falter, let us simply pick up what has fallen. Let us carry on, even if only in halting two-forward-and-one-back type steps.
Let us remember why we began.