I confess, when my turn at the blog came around this month, I intended to write about the experience of loss; a contemplation of the age I now find myself to be, spurred by the funeral service we attended to support our much loved friend. Coping with loss (of so many different kinds!) whether it be physical or mental or emotional has become a greater part of our lives and somehow we must find a way to come to terms with it. But when I woke up early Sunday morning, nature unfolded a different plan for me and I will let Emily Bronte say the rest:
The night is darkening round me, / The wild winds coldly blow; / But a tyrant spell has bound me / And I cannot, cannot go. / The giant trees are bending / Their bare boughs weighed with snow. / And the storm is fast descending, / And yet I cannot go. / Clouds beyond clouds above me, / Wastes beyond wastes below; / But nothing drear can move me; / I will not, cannot go.
Go out and enjoy our magical winter wonderland!