Nine Winters, Nine Lives

Each winter of tending the willows is a new chapter, a new journey. A place I return to in the darkness of each year like a homecoming. Each year, I re-turn. And yet with each passing year, I am welcomed with different hands...different eyes, a new cloak of skin, and yet the same beating, stretched heart. .
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For with each year as I prune the willow, sort her branches, and bundle up her bounty—I, side-by-side, follow suit. Through the work of tending, I reflect upon my own journey of the past year—With the help of the willow, I patch up the holes and un-tangle the warps—Harvest meaning and strength to guide me on—Prune what is ripe for harvest or what has grown too weak for the winter winds—Thresh the seeds to be sown—Sort and bundle the great harvest, so that all these pieces- these great golden threads - may, one day, in hope, be woven into beautiful vessels that will hold the wonder and magick of our tomorrows. .