“Stormy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys, When the wind blows our barge will go.”

It’s a fine winter storm here in the mountains. No snow for us… it’s all wind and rain, foggy skies and dancing limbs. With the light on shining in back it seems the pine is particularly enjoying the wet. New needles are growing it seems, a different shade than the rest, filling out branches. All the pines are gone, long live the pines. There are a couple of saplings but this is the last one of any size and it is a small size, about twenty five feet.

The holidays are winding down, and me with them. I think it is a case in my present existence that I am so desiring to press forward that stopping for whatever reason tends to knock my soul off track. Holidays are wonderful, to be sure, only I need to keep moving forward before I can really stop to enjoy them. I suffer from thinking too much at times like this.

I like the steady rhythm, finding a groove in which to ride for weeks on end. For now at least. Seasons change and so there is no doubt that this is a season for work and in the future I will be able to better step back.

Curiously I tend to bump the trend. I tend to drift away from God and spiritual thinking on holidays, while others show up for church on only the holidays. Overall it’s not a bad thing as Humpty Dumpty once said celebrating an unbirthday is better than a birthday because we have more unbirthdays. Or something like that.

I have reread about five of the Harry Potter books so far this week, always a delight on various levels.

So, as the fog rolls in and rain continues to drip off the trees I feel it in my soul. Not bad, merely mellow.

I have decided to kick myself and get back to the actual discipline of morning and evening come the new year. How hard is it to write a few words each day, eh?

Yeah.