What is your favorite season?
Anyone whose known me for about five minutes knows mine isn't winter.
There's a quiet comfort in eating toast and tea, enfolding oneself in soft comforting scarves, knitting wools tweed and hand spun, wearing slippers in the afternoon, stirring soup, listening to Elizabeth Cotten, baking late into the deep indigo night, tying bows and giving little surprises, spending more time than you'll admit reading, and looking hard at a landscape rendered monochrome.
My opinion is that autumn braces us, clears our sight like wasabi, the leaves alight and sing a last hurrah, rain comes to take the last of the hangers-on so that in spring a faint mist of nascent greens can whisper in and summer's heat softens, propelling humans into bodies of water, relaxing even the most hurried.
Thank you for keeping up with the meanderings of eggbeater. Even in the season of family obligations and hibernation. shuna fish lydon