there are dreams in my head tonight of little houses set on hills that turn in to mountains when you're not looking.

and the sky is pink and heavy with the snow that kept me in of doors tonight.

i'm trying to coax myself into reading again--because i know there are answers there someplace--starting with fire and hemlock and now moving on to tam lin. it doesn't help much that i've already been missing northfield something fierce the last couple of weeks, and certain bits of carleton to boot. but it's comforting to read the bits that make me realize in specific what i've been missing, comforting in sharp ways.

those little houses though, behind them there is grey sky flecked with blue, and clouds that leave shadows like i've only seen one place. golden under them, grasses that rattle just enough. the light and dark in such deep and harmonious contrast that all i wanted was to quilt.

and it's too early for a spring icon, but it's what's needed. so.