My view--icy silence
January comes after a scattered and distracted December during which I wrote little and basically let go of my writing life, sending it away. Now I reel it back in, post holiday, post family gatherings and it returns easily, without urgency, more like a patient friend. I feel like I always post a love song to January, my time of reclamation and solitude and cold mornings and a clean focus. I will finish my essays now. I will work on a new novel. I will help my husband with his wonderful project. Perhaps I will write a few winter poems. There is time, there is anonymity, there is silence. All is well. Happy New Year.