It is Monday, the twenty-third of December, and it is five below zero here in Crooked Eddy. Indeed, we have passed the solstice into the realm of official winter now, though there could be no doubt of that in these environs.
It is cold once again in our little house, and even wearing sweats and my heaviest down vest I feel the chill in my bones as I write. They say this extreme won’t last long, that tomorrow’s low will settle in close to twenty degrees (above). Twenty degrees still seems awfully cold; belying the twenty-five-degree swing those numbers foretell.
One of my best friends sent me a completely cool little heater for Christmas, and I am glad it arrived early. I huddled right in front of it with my first mug of coffee this morning!
There are mostly sad tidings as Christmas approaches. My dear aunt passed away on Saturday morning. She was the last of her generation in my family, and I am now the eldest of the clan. Carole lived a good and full life, taking the turns on her terms, and I wish her Godspeed on her journey to that next life. A friend has also been hospitalized, and another whom I respected just laid to rest. Seems year’s end’s entire theme is of finality.
The challenge each winter is to turn the mind to the light and promise of spring. A more difficult process in an atmosphere of loss. I have taken small steps, re-blending my Translucence dubbings for the Isonychia and Hendricksons, tying a few flies. I shall work toward a little more of the same for now.
Bright Waters Catskill 