Frost

It’s the first frost today. Minus 0 somehow. I loved feeling the crunch under my feet - as I saw the sliver of moon over the deep, red, rising sun.

My love expressed in the most beautiful form of words our ending - the completion of our story over the last two years and three days last night. Our blog of love across two hemispheres (https://graandaroha.substack.com/) which we have populated for over a year. At the end she wrote of a new story beginning. What is this story? Does it include us?

I’m such a romantic that even at the end of a thing - I have capacity for something - something else. And, I cried, to read her full letting go of me and this season of life we shared so deeply together. It’s really something else. You read about this sort of love in books - well, that’s how I see it right now.

So, new moon beckons, winter, cold, tight, hunkered down - earth to sleep - rest and healing - these things sound good, but I’m now quite there - I want to be moving - but that too is part of the medicine of this dance now - to stay put - water the cover crop in the green house by hand each cold morning, tend to myself, my children, this business of life - and let die what must die - only to be reborn in new form - to where, with whom and what, I cannot say.