bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky

[jazzfish]

Dark and wet and dreary the sky this autumnal winter, just the worst time of the year for a journey. A fine time to stay at home buried in blankets and cats.

I feel like I'm just starting to get a sense of what my life is actually going to look like. As though there's a sense of stability just about to settle in. Doubtless something will shake it soon enough; if it's all the same, or even all predictable, then you're dead.

So the light gets brighter and the night gets shorter. And we move forward, as we always have, into the stories that have yet to be written. And may your Sunreturn be peaceful.