There's not much in the way of rhythm in my life or heart right now, it's the middle of the dark, cool (not consistently cold this year!) winter and snow covers the ground on and off, alternating with dead, matted grass and freeze-thaw mud. One day it's mud, the next three, snow, four or five of mud, three of frozen mud, and so on.
The creeks are flowing well, but I haven't had much time and energy for fishing or really, for driving to the streams. The kids are fun to watch run in and out the front door, not worried about the cold or dark, so I follow them around a bit and find something else to do inside or not too far from the house.
The earth is not hard frozen very deep this year, either, so I've been out digging around a bit to see what is stirring beneath the frost; worms, roots and a few odd insects having taken shelter where they could emerge when it's time in a few more months. The colors are normal for this time of winter, browns, tans, light greens and grays; with fleeting blue and white from time to time above the digging site. Sunsets have been a joy all through the fall and into this winter, from time to time. That's a good thing and looked forward to as something that joins all seasons 'round here.
Most things flow well, but there's not much in the way of predictability. That is a lesson to be internalized with gusto and eyes wide open. Nothing is often to be expected from life, and when something blessed can be looked forward to with regularity, there's one thing that ought be done.
That's the very thing that needs be done anyhow, anyway, and in any season.
Give deep thanks often; the ride won't last long.