"She stood there : she listened. She heard the names
of the stars."
- Virginia Woolf
Winter is coming, bringing with it words and a wolfish sea. I am making a space inside myself and around myself to nourish small new seeds of creativity. This happens as sure as the fattening of the moon on autumn horizons, the fall of the leaves. I soften, and then the softness slips away, letting the bone-dark secrets have their day.