Thirteen… Sandy’s favorite number (the day she was born),,,
And on this New Year’s eve at midnight, it’s also the temperature… 13 degrees F.
I’m hunkered around my campfire in the garden that is covered in more than two feet of snow…
Trying to stay warm, whichever side of me is not facing the fire is frozen… must be an allegory there somewhere… so I keep moving and turning around the flames.. and watching the sparks fly upward through the bare branches of the tree toward the cold dark sky and the bright scattered stars…
“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.” - from an Eskimo legend (and PVD)
Blessings to everyone for the New Year,