01.03.13  Driving home across the state yesterday, we watched the waning full moon set in the western sky as the wide snow fields passed by, broken only by thin shafts of golden wheat jutting up through the snow.  Diamonds dazzled on the snow and the white peaks were outlined against the baby blue clear sky as high pressure winds buffeted the car.   I’d almost forgotten how energetic it feels to be in such sunshine and swirling winds.   Thinking of grand projects in the new year, lists to be accomplished, it seems all things are possible.

I remember when we lived in Colorado how I wished for a cloudy dreary day to come along so I didn’t feel compelled to rush around outside from one activity to the next.  I wanted a day to stay indoors, being still and quiet.  I’ve come to call that feeling, “going in and in.”  In the final hour of our return to home,  we drove down into our broad valley, rimmed with mountains.  And there was the blue-gray cloud that covers it all, squeezing the space between land and sky.  I’d left on the fairy lights by the garage to light our way down the snow-covered stone stairs to our house.  Not a sound came from the lake or the woods.  Time to go in and in, again.