Revival

After a twelve hour, much-needed sleep and a breakfast of French Toast made with Cameron's homemade bread I feel mentally refreshed and almost over this cold. My sinuses are still plugged up and I have a lingering cough that I have stopped noticing, but the chills, sneezing and sore throat are gone.

It's raining here. Pouring in a Vancouver-style torrent, although the white-lit sky is bright filtering through a thin haze of cloud. Rains never last long here, drifting by in an afternoon, in a morning before the clouds dissipate, pockets of blue sky return and the shadows.

My goals for the day are all fun: read, learn to make bread from Cameron, play guitar, post a note up here and start a couple of blog posts for the Rivershed Society Blog I am helping to start up, do some writing, or rather look through some of my old unfinished pieces and start to type something out. A start at a little portfolio of short stories, poetry. Nothing too overwhelming. I don't have the mental energy to pour more responsibilities on myself in addition to running a little school. The words are all there waiting for me, I just need to show up to work on them, and I know that at some point I will make the time and space I need for the editing and revising of what has been started.

It is warm outside for this time of year. The beginning of March. Just above zero. Snow still on the ground but slowly being rinsed away, washed into a shield of hard white atop the earth. And I wonder if winter will revisit us here, or if this is the start to a long, drawn-out spring. And I wonder about next year, where I will be living, where I will be working. I try not to get too wrapped up in the thoughts of the future, because who of us really knows how it will all work out. It is at times exciting to consider the possibilities, though, and at other times it is daunting. I try to be thankful for the ability to choose at all.

Or perhaps I will be here still next year, sitting on this same couch, with the same view of misty mountains from my living room window. Everything the same, yet different.