October 19, 2018

nectar slushie

.... because if ambrosia is the food of the gods, it is surely frozen.

The first weekend of delicious near-freezing air is upon us here.  Everything in me cries out for shivering and goosebumps and fuzzy socks and hurrying to get back under the covers after braving the bathroom and soft, thick throw blankets shared with one of the dogs on the couch.

I want to open all of the windows and drink in crispness.

I want to be surrounded by chilling winds that make me retreat and create a cocoon of warmth, burn candles, light the fire, bundle up, feel small and protected against the bitterness ... then shed it all and stand out on the porch and close my eyes and lift my arms and surrender to invigoration.

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