Saturday, November 19, 2011

fresh bread

I feel a change coming on for these letters.  Not a major one, but maybe a return to the original idea.  I’m feeling drawn away from breadbox “excavations” and more toward FRESH letters, written today.  Written to YOU. 

A bit like fresh baked bread?  One likes to hope so.  Half baked?  Oh, you can count on it.  But maybe that’s part of the adventure of blogging.  I find out what I’m thinking as I write it.  On my other blog (, I have at least a sense of where things are going.  I like doing that blog, but I enjoy this one too. I like being surprised to find myself talking about nature, and letters, and "four dwarf colds." I would like to write of winter, and autumn, and wind….

Autumn came in fast this year, just as I’d settled in to summer.  I sat outside to enjoy July fireworks and three hours later (slight exaggeration, but it felt that way) there was a sudden freshness in the wind.  Now the air is tinged with woodsmoke, leaves crunch underfoot, and nights are long and deep and brisk.  Candles against a darkened window seem somehow cozy and necessary, and my oldest grandchild checks our supply of hot chocolate.  I don’t know why I’m surprised that the trees are all bare. 

Next Thursday is Thanksgiving, with Advent just after.  It's a time for writing cards, and updates, and letters.  It's a time to sit inside (when possible) and write of the season's treasures.  I once heard that writing is a “kind of double living.” During this time of holy anticipation, I would like to doubly live.

(photo © Nancy Shuman)