Fire.

Today feels like something out of the 100 acre Woods, although dreary, there’s a whimsical side to all this dreary rain and cold.  There must be.  I saw this fire burning yesterday and thought the smoke looked so thick and blanket-like, as if the smoke itself were warm and inviting against the endless fog that is bearing down on us right now.

I like thinking about the fire that stays nestled in the root of winter—the core of each season driving change forward.  The world as a coal fueled train.  This winter my friends and I are starting the Jarch Club (January-March Club) so that we can get together during this down time of year and teach each other something that we know about.  Basically it’s a craft club, but I think I’m not ready to say that I’m in a crafts club, so instead we’re calling it Jarch and we’ll drink wine and make candles and sachets and other little what-have-yous, and before we know it the world will bloom again.  That’s the fire at the core of my January.