The cold still lingers. The days are nice, but the nights are hard and cold. I’m happy to be inside. We’re in that period of time, where the old year lingers as well. Done. A little tired. A lot to show on multiple fronts. Still, there’s no real time left for significant work. Just day counting. Four by my watch, then we’re into 2023. It seems like only yesterday we were frantic abut Y2K. Then the 21st century came, nothing happened, and now here we are.

I believe I danced to start the new century and I danced to start this past year. I’m glad I did. It turned out to be a good year. Caught Covid. Got new eyes. Chilled with friends at Red River. Walked some trails at Big Bend. Walked more trails in Oklahoma. Walked others in Colorado. Somewhere in there I danced again and sang songs. Sang some with my kids. Wrote songs, too. Music is the new constant in my life, especially live music.

It was dark when I started writing this. Now the morning sun is bathing the pasture in a pale, cold light. There are no clouds to speak off so there’s only a glow in the east as this part of the earth turns it lonely eyes toward the sun. It’s barely in a position to help. But we’re past the solstice and the days are getting longer and the sun can linger so that the earth can collect it’s rays and warm up. Then we can start venturing back outside, collecting the sun’s rays ourselves, ready to kick a new year into gear and see what it brings.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale