As the winter solstice slips behind us, the light returns without urgency. It comes back the way all resilient things do, faithfully, almost unnoticed. A few more minutes of day. A gentle easing of the cold. Beneath frozen ground, life is already whispering its intentions.
This is not a season for hurry. It is a season for trust. The land reminds us that rest is not failure, and stillness is not stagnation, but preparation. Roots grow strong in the dark as garden dreams take shape in the quiet. What is tended softly and patiently will rise with warmth’s blessing.
We stand at the turning of the light, where what has been resting begins, little by little, to come alive again.