|Queen Anne's Lace seeds earlier in the year|
That said, the fact that I can't get out has afforded me the opportunity of some stillness in this last week of frantic preparation. Everybody is rushing about doing their Christmas shopping and going to office parties. Me, well, I am sitting here, 3/4 of a mile from the nearest metalled road, listening to my head and body, just being.
For Pagans, the Winter is a time of Going Within, a time of rest and reflection, allowing yourself to recuperate after the frantic energy of Spring and Summer. This is the time, for instance, when I write most productively, because the dark nights mean I can see the pictures in my head more easily. (In the summer, I always feel I ought to be outside, doing something productive in the garden, or making the most of the sunshine while it's available. It feels horribly wasteful and ungrateful to be inside writing on a beautiful afternoon.) I really hate the cold weather, but it allows my imagination to come out to play. So right now, I am enjoying having the time to make up stories, play with ideas, rest up and plan for the future. I'm working on my novel, and kicking about a few other ideas too. I'd forgotten how much I really enjoy stories. So my Christmas present to myself is going to be, well, having fun with more stories.