Today was the first day of winter. I know that because not only did we put our clocks back an hour last night, not only was the first freeze of the year announced for the dawning hours and not only was it 5ºC when I got up, but because just before opening my eyes I heard the cranes squawking madly as they flew over in their southward migration. I smiled at the sound remembering how I had heard them last year and how the man I ran into said that when the cranes flew south, cold followed in their wing-path.

Sure enough: as I stepped out the door with four layers of clothing on (undershirt, pullover, sweater vest and coat), a brand new wool scarf (gift from Kiwi-san) and woolen gloves on I felt the bite of cold pinch my cheeks. It felt good. The sky was bright blue, after days of rain and clouds and the sun was gleaming down through the rain-washed air as if it were brand new and not the old, tired, almost worn-out sun that scientists tell us we have. It was easy to believe the world was perfect as I sat on the fountain in the center of town waiting for Kiwi-san. After having our coffee, I refused his offer to drive me home because it was the perfect day for a walk.

Once home, I spent the morning and better part of the afternoon, re-reading past blogs in hopes of getting inspired to write more. There is no hiding the fact that I have published nothing in over a month and, although it is true that I have been away, I can’t deny that deep down every time I think of sitting down and writing something for the blog, I feel a resistance that is hard to overcome and end up doing something else. I could say it is a lack of inspiration but I know it isn’t. Inspiration is a result of sitting in a chair, in front of the blank page and putting one word after another until it comes. It is something else this time, something causing resistance, not just laziness, not just nothing-to-write-about, but downright, ornery resistance, I-don’t-want-to-write kind of resistance. So I honor myself and don’t do it.

The result, of course, is that I end up beating on myself for not doing it. Why this morning even, as I heard the cranes and thought of the winter that was coming, I found myself thinking: “I should do more”. “I should do more” I repeated listening to myself. “Turn it around” I thought. Ok: “More should do me”, and I began to laugh. “Yes, of course, that is truer: more should do me! It is not me responsibility. More is a story of the future and I have only to take care of now. Can I do what is in front of me now?” I smiled. Of course I could, said I to me, and patted the sleeping Salomé as I leapt from bed. Blue sky, brisk morning, new scarf: Have me life to do what you will with me, more if that be your pleasure or even less, should it be better for the Universe and all around. Yes, definitely Life should do me more if that is what it finds proper. In the meantime, this short blog did get written even if at a hog’s hair before midnight.

   winter’s first sunset