copyright constance price/compass rose healing arts

White birch has become my favorite tree, especially in winter. A family of three trees stand together at the edge of the wood and nod as I walk by. Fog at the base of their trunks after the recent rainstorm swirls and settles with an evening exhale. Bark shreds and peels back in the wind creating horizontal patterns and uneven surface, exposing grey braille underneath, winter white fabric and at dusk, a faint pink hue; new skin under wrinkled layers. These birch are the local home for our resident golden hawk who chases and scatters blue jay and sparrow with the whoosh of a wing. On occasion, it provides a perch for the silver white owl whose stewardship is ever present. Branches shift and drop as bitter winds howl, bending 'neath the weight of heavy midnight snow and then rebounding in the noon sunshine.

Strong. Flexible. Both yielding and unyielding. Dancing with the rhythm of the season.

sending peace.

january thaw

A trinity of events came together seamlessly yesterday as the day unfolded...the Wolf Moon moving toward fullness, a powerful solar eclipse that transformed the sun and moon for several moments and, here in NH, the warm and wistful arrival of the january thaw. As I drove by the river, I could see it coming in; the water a lighter shade of blue-grey and the river energized without the icy remnants that pull at its shoreline. People seemed to smile more easily, drop their shoulders and breathe in the warmer air. Neighborhoods teemed with walkers and their dogs, foregoing hibernation and wool mittens to draw in the sun. It was a day to be present, really present, with no looking back at last week's frigid wind or forward to the next storms' snowplow song. It was a day to just "be" in the hopeful feeling of mid winter sunshine and warmth. At close of day the sky filled with scarlet pink...the last wink of sunlight washed in rose petal silk and lavender clouds.

sending peace.