winter’s pain and beauty

A little better today; although I woke with a headache of immense proportions, it eventually succumbed to store-brand migrane formula. And a lot of orange juice.

Unfortunately, I already had a vacation day scheduled for today. 🙁 Was going to go to Vashon again with Kat and her writing gang, but I knew yesterday that I wasn’t going to be up for it. Instead, half the day laying and whimpering with my headache, the other half watching the rest of Lord of the Rings. (Eowyn is my personal hero.)

I wish I’d know what this meant a week ago, and then maybe I’d’ve been better already. Ah well, at least now I know if it happens again.

And shortly I can go back to my life — finish sending cards, order my plane tickets, reset the garden, go back to work — maybe a little more refreshed.

Today was icy cold. We went out, briefly, to the store to get the aforementioned meds, and at noon there was still frost on everything. So pretty, the frost on the yarrow, its remaining leaves curled and dying, but outlined with ice, like a sculpture of silver and glass. I find this year that I’m enjoying all the seasons in their own way; only in these last two weeks, when I’ve been down, has the gathering dark been hard to take. It is what it is, the full moon through ice-fog, the bones of the aspen against the pale sky, the withering leaves in the garden simmering down to await the spring.