It snowed all day yesterday and into the night. But it was a very fine dry snow. Like salt. Or powdered chalk. And it didn't amount to much. Accumulating temporarily. Where the wind didn't catch it.
The light coating process was fun to watch. The slow erasing. But then the wind came and that was beautiful to watch too. Which parts would appear. How they seemed a focus then. These common cracks and meeting places. Now speaking. How the slow uncovering had me looking closely at the way things meet. Touch. Sometimes almost. What tender places.
I was inspired by that.
In this quiet unrolling and undoing that fills my winter here, I have uncovered some pieces that were started while I was considering white. And now I am undoing or should I say REconsidering the white of them. Like a kind of winter that might not be forever.
So. Yes, at this point we are both "under the weather". Which is big at this point. The under and the weather.
The roof is leaking . The sky is falling. The wind almost picked up Chicken as he went out to pee. He didn't mind. He loves wind and climbed a tree in the rain before coming back in. He promptly went to sleep.
The man finally fell asleep at 3:3o AM. I stitched by lamplight which made my eyes ache and my head hurt. I fell asleep with a needle in my hand and the fire went out. I fixed that and then decided to bring more wood in because of the dampness and the fact that THEY just predicted 3 more days of the same. Another chapter for my neighbors to add to the book as the old lady in the bird robe went out at 4AM to haul wood.
But I stitched more and a little long cloth began to have a story. The thing that runs through it. The dark and light of it. And a wish for balance. A little solstice cloth , then, as it happened. I would like to talk about it more but not today. As soon as the man wakes, I'm going to sleep.
Later I looked at two cloths touching. Which gave them a new sense of season. A trans-season stray emerged.