Rain, wind, wintry weather at last. The earth sighs and soaks up the long-awaited moisture. Time to turn within and begin the inner descent, coming home to self, and attending to what has been put aside through the active summer months. I'm finding good books and DVDs at the library. Am sorting shelves and files. Thinking about how to stop up drafts, and replace the bach roof.
Talking today with someone about the difference between being quiescent and being inert. A fallow field is quiescent (what a delicious word) because it is filled with micro-organisms, working away, restoring soil structure and putting back nutrients. This is what winter signifies for me: delicious quiescence, and the gestating of a new project, but without hurry or expectation of results. It's the patient season.