“I awake to the cool breeze of late September 2018 in Asheville, North Carolina. I grab a light cotton robe and shuffle into the kitchen for a morning cup of Hecate tea. The whistle of the tea kettle, the clink of the bottles on the refrigerator door—these sounds ground me in the moment of early morning, the sky still pink. I open the door to the little house and exit the screen door, settling into the chair on the porch to breathe in the morning dew.”
Ballard, H. Byron. Seasons of a Magical Life: A Pagan Path of Living (p. ix). Red Wheel Weiser. Kindle Edition.
ART: "In the Present Moment"
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The chair. I remember the old wicker furniture on my grandparent's porch. It was old and rickety and yet somehow still comfortable.
Linda, as I was reading this, except for the location and the lack of dogs, I could have sworn it was something you wrote. Regardless, I think it’s lovely and I’m glad you shared it.
I love you.