This morning I wake earlier than usual, daylight softly breaking through our curtains. There is a purple-ness to the air, autumn purple, and the tang of a chill as I reach for my robe. October is here, and She comes bearing memories.
What really strikes me, as I leave the house in search of coffee, is the scent of remembering. The muddy, muted smell of leaves and trodden grass and iron earth.
It is my birthday and it has become something of a ritual to pull a card for myself to welcome my new year. I like the familiar weight of cards in hand, the shuffle reassuring in its rhythm.Read More