This year, on the the evening on the Solstice, my husband and I gathered in a nearby orchard with our dear friends, Rob & Linda Cordtz. They are the stewards of our favorite local organic orchard here in Eastern Oregon. The Cordtz hosted a bonfire and an honest-to-goodness Wassailing to bless the trees. It was magic.
Here is her most recent poem for the New Year.
Did you see the full moon in the carbon sky
It illuminates the foot prints of a fox, walking by
The air is crisp and bitingly cold
Within my heart the New-year unfolds
The moon reflex's in the spiders eye
As she weaves in a starless sky
Holding her babies so they don't cry
Join me she said, in the bye and bye
So we set a table for all of our friends
And had a party for the year's end
We built a fire and fed the soul
Laughed out loud in the biting cold
Make a wish and pocket a star
There are no more drinks in the honey jar
The sun is rising and the moon is gone
Nothing is left but last year's song
- Linda Cordtz
In another of Linda's recent posts she wrote, "I woke to a flood of silence; a warming darkness and the awareness of breath. Even the intellect has to give sway to the door of Winter, as we embark on a calendar change." This idea of the intellect giving way to the changing seasons resonates deeply with me. Until recently I lived in Dallas, TX - a place with minimal seasonal changes. Sure - it gets cold, but it does so suddenly, and interspersed with days of extreme warmth. Out here in Eastern Oregon, the cold is upon us. I can feel my inner metronome slow down in the face of its presence. I am grateful for this quiet time.
Today, I'm reflecting on "last year's song". It was a tough year for many of us - but I am hopeful. Every hopeful. There are many delights to cultivate in 2018. And one of them will be the continuation of this blog and sharing our new home and surroundings with YOU! Happy New Year, dear readers, and bright blessings as we set forth together again.