Gifts

It never seizes to amaze me that I now live somewhere where there's daylight in December, even sunshine and not an inch of snow on the ground. Where there can be T-shirt days in midwinter. I know that down here winter is only supposed to begin at Solstice, but I cannot help but think it the season's midpoint, the moment when we're halfway to spring.

Speaking of amazing things, the generosity of folks who've never even met me in person, always brings tears of utter joy to my eyes. Last month when I wrote that I was ill, a lovely reader, gypsy vintage seller and woman of the woods, Sheri, offered me a remedy in the form of a medicinal mushroom, Chaga, which grows on birch trees in her Northwoods, much like in my native land. In Finland, it is known as Pakurikääpä, an ancient folk remedy.

Upon receiving my contact details, she then promptly shipped me not only the dried Chaga, but an array of other lovely goodies, mushroom-themed clothes, two lovely mushroom mugs and this gorgeous paisley skirt among them. Receiving this her package was a medicinal treat in and of itself.

Wondering what those magical looking winter fruit hanging behind me in the tree are? Custard fruits. Apparently you let them go to where they seem almost rotten, soft and gooey and they taste like custard. I can't wait to try mine.

Togehter, these little blessings and surprises make me smile.

After gathering such fruit and relishing Sheri's healing tea, I came home to yet another gift, from these shores this time.

Smelt! A tasty little fish that a friend has been gifting us with. Like most little fish, best rolled in rye flour, white pepper and salt and fried in butter, then gobbled whole, bones, tails and all.

Without a computer to record my thoughts on, I've been doing a lot of silent meditation, painstaking writing on paper and revitalizing my typewriter skills. I try to look on these too as a gift, though I feel my creativity a little impeaded by this lack.
For a few weeks I was able to journal and meditate in this lovely space, new to me, though close to my own home. A beautiful, mysterious piece of land that will soon belong to some young next door neighbors, who might just be open to bees in their orchard. Having them around feels like a gift too.

Though there are plenty of young folks on the Islands now, a big change from when I first came here, not many live in our immediate neighborhood and we're looking forward to spending more time with them at their magical digs.

Their property is bathed in light, its beautiful cob-structures inspiring dreams of one's own little cob house someday, artistic, inexpensive and gorgeous.

As we enter the Solstice/Christmas/Birthday season, I cherish these last quiet fall days, time to observe and experience deeply, to craft and ponder.


The unexpected gift of the moon's sickle, or a flock of Junkos in the field...

Happy December!