I wrote this post a little over a year ago. Refresh your memory. You need to read that post to go to the next one.
It is fitting that I mark my return to Wednesday Link Love with a new link to the wonderful Alicia’s blog and this beautiful post. Go there now and read it. Really.
And then, of course you will want to read the next 7 weeks of posts and look at the pictures. I have always found her blog to be a sensory treat, with her beautiful photographs of her lovely home and the beautiful things she makes and the sweet creatures she shares her life with. Today’s post is just so beautiful and so lyrical that I have to insist that you also hop over and read it too. And when you are finished reading it, go back and read the last paragraph all over again. It is pure delight. I love the blogging world and the amazing women I have come to “know” because of it. Okay, just read this passage one more time.
Sometimes I have to go out by myself to get some stuff done and then, alone in the car, driving my old familiar routes out to the post office, the fabric store, over the little mountain whose village-like view I like to treat myself to in every season, I usually cry a little bit, thinking about everything that came before, how hard it was, and how hard some things are, and how tender life is, for everyone. Everyone you meet. December, with its fog and dark trees, and delicate branches waving in the cold, and its white berries hanging heavy from wire-thin black branches waving in the cold, makes me feel soft and tearful. I wind the car through the trees. The cold air smells of cedar. The route is old but I am new. I hurry to return home even though I'm trying to go slow, to let myself go slow enough to feel it all, to settle into every mile of this journey. Every season of this life. This glowing, golden gift