I always love a good mystery. Whether presented in cinematic or written form, I do so enjoy the experience of being drawn into a good plot. Theorizing, hypothesizing, predicting the outcome as you go along. I love the mystery in the unexpected and small surprises, the feeling of anticipation that comes with a little bit of unknown looming on your horizon. I enjoy the satisfaction of that single moment when the outcome is revealed. These things delight me. But it is the mystery in nature that truly astounds me.
If you spend time in this space of mine, you are probably aware of my affinity for hidden treasures. You know those little bits and trinkets you chance upon as you wander and roam in your favorite outdoor playground. Relics from another place in time hinting at a story you can only imagine in your mind. Whether you discover them unexpectedly or hunt them quite intentionally, these deserts hold a treasure-trove of trinkets. During a recent bout of winter wandering, we happened to hit the mother load in the ghost town of Bodie.
At year’s end many of us are granted that blessed little break from the regular routines of daily life, an opportunity to reflect on the adventures of the past year and prepare for that to come. We celebrate our various holidays as the winter solstice ushers in another cycle of seasons. Ideally, this Winter Break should be a time for slowing down, pausing, taking time to connect with ourselves and our loved ones. Somehow, I lost a grip on that ideal and the hustle-bustle energy managed to take hold. The past few weeks have flown by and I suddenly find myself searching for my break. I start to worry that I may have missed it, having been swept up in this strong current of commotion. But then I come to this space, where it has been so quiet for all these weeks, and it is here I find solace in my sacred Winter Break.
I love this time of year. Whether it’s spent watching snow fall with my kinfolk, or roaming through sagebrush with my hubby and hounds, Christmas is always a special time for me. It doesn’t seem to matter where I am or who I’m with, as long as I can give a gift, I am happy as can be.
There is something about a cold, stormy day that stirs up a craving for gingerbread. Talk about seasonal flavors…warm gingery spices with that deep flavor of dark molasses…nothing says winter like gingerbread. With a storm brewin’ outdoors this weekend, I decided to hunker down in the comfy confines of my kitchen and bake up some of those gingerbread flavors.
It has been a quiet, relaxing week around here. With some time away from work and close to home, I fully intended to hit the household to do list and get some of those ridiculously prolonged projects completed. But there was this cloud of gratitude in the air, coloring our sunsets in such a way that chores and projects fell by the wayside and we spent the week watching the sky, taking photos and simply enjoying our moments.