Cellar Season

We’ve been in Louisville a year now.  It’s hard to believe.

Early Autumn warmth and sunlight has passed.  I can feel a bite of the winter that’s coming, when I leave to take Ry to school in the mornings.  Fall was flaming fire and warm light all around.  Now the trees are “bald”, as Rocky says, and the leaves on the ground are brittle and brown, and fun to shuffle through.  There’s been frost a few mornings, when we step out on our way to Rocky’s school.  She was excited to taste her first frost, stripped from grass blades.

As we lose the sunlight, and cold seeps in through the cracks, I vow not to force sunshine into the gray.  Winter is a time to hunker down in the cold and damp, and feel the death of things.  It’s a shadow time.  I’m going to sink in and see what kind of God magic exists here in the dark cellar season.

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