There was a sheen on the rooftops as I opened the shutters. A finger-snap click of cold on my cheeks from the air. Something had shifted towards Christmas, or as close as a Christmas postcard as we tend to find in Provence.
Out with the dogs, Kipling turned and dashed through the grasses, frozen overnight, with manic energy. The shadows tinged blue, broken underfoot. My laughter burst into wispy trails. I felt my lungs expand, bright, as the sun cut through the fog draped on the tops of the mountain on the other side of the Rhône, where I knew that it would be dipping down into the prehistoric graves dug deep into the rock of St. Roman. Old and new, light and darkness blending then, as it does, until the frost began to melt. So I doubled back to get my camera, as I do, exchanging the lenses to my 55 macro so that I could lean in closer.
Looking, I forget where I am. I know that doesn’t really make literal sense and that is why I find it intoxicating. Just a little bit overwhelmed by beauty, that kindred swoon. What a gift it is when our heart beats so hard that the pulse dances in our wrists. For whatever reason.
This is my beribboned box, quite possibly the only that I will open.
It appears that this will be my Year Without a Santa Claus, a holiday as in discordance with the past as all of the 2016 that has come before it.
I know that I am not alone in bubbling up questions of why and how this season. What constitutes full and meaning. Maybe not the only one who is not listening to carols as they are a bit too memory laden this go ’round. Because it has been a confusing time for so many as the moon will tell you if you listen.
Pourtant, I am certain that we are all still somehow searching with childlike impatience, as there are so many presents to enjoy. It may not be typical. And there might not be a tree. But they are most certainly there.
I leaned in. The crystal shards and liquid diamonds reflected hope, dotted and strewn. I balance in the midst of them with crackling knees that are wet in the dew, in good health; being creative, the breath that continues to breathe me. More than a bit lost still, yes, admittedly, but determined. I will find my way. Purpose will come but how lucky that I love and am loved. And that is as good as any traditional mistletoe kiss. This is me, condensed.
Lifting my head, I had to squint from the switch of focus, a line extending from the dance of the minuscule outwards to the far distance. Two forms are engulfed in the last of the golden mist. They are so far on the horizon as to already be in 2017. The corner of my lips lifted slightly as I looked forward to the unknown, in and beyond what the next 24 hours might hold.
With much Love and Gratitude to you for your kindness and continued support throughout 2016.
You are still here. Merci avec tout coeur,
H.
Merci, Emm. Sending a warm hug to you. Holding onto your message of hope.
xo
Loree, I hope that you are having a beautiful holiday season in Malte and that 2017 also brings joy to you too!
Thank you, Ali. Sending you much happiness…
You know how sentimental I am, so perhaps you won't be surprised that your lovely words brought happy tears to my eyes? Just a little bit? You are loved too, beautiful Katherine. Your friendship is precious to me.
Merry Christmas. xo
Yes, I am really looking forward to the Solstice this year, Laura. Turning towards the light! Thank you always for your kindness and I am sending wishes of prosperity and joy to you.
Judith, thank you so much for sharing this story with me. How grateful I am that you were able to listen to that wise advice. I definitely have been trying but now will need to take a more active role in creating a new life, just as you delivered "yours." I hope your son arrived safely.
And I have been thinking about possibly selling prints for a long time. Not all of my files are strong enough – some of the above photos were taken with my iphone 😉 – but I will think more and merci Elizabeth for chiming in.
I love your question, Diana. 🙂 That is exactly it. Thank you for the compliments and please accept my well wishes in return!
Much Mahalo, Bill. And to you as well on the other side of the world!
And may the same arrive for you, Lorrie. I know that you appreciate gifts in all sizes. 🙂
Ach, you give me hope with your beautiful pictures and you courageous words. Christmas is for me a bleak season (have lost two of my most beloved during it). Yesterday I went to a church (I am not a churchgoer), lighted two candles and then cried and cried. I did not cry for a whole year. But that was good. When I went out to the bustle of the city again, everything looked better, brighter, more hopeful. I decorated my house after two years and I am preparing a dinner for all my girl friends. So hope that gives life goes on! Many many kisses!