The garden in winter. I think my white clay dough ornaments turned out rather well. Very mild. Pleasant albeit a little scary for the beginning of January.
As always, this season has been a wonderful time to stop and reflect while experiencing the wonderful sight, sounds, smells, and tastes of the season while enjoying time with family and friends and missing those no longer with us.
I'll close out this Christmastide with a poem:
The Year
What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That's not been said a thousand times?
The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.
We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.
We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.
We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our prides, we sheet our dead.
We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that's the burden of a year.
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850 - 1919)
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