December

 

I have discovered some rhythms to my life, like the blending of spice,

 Cinnamon and thyme, cardamon and lime and all things that rhyme.

 Harmonizing scents, broths that warm with bay, tea that tastes like hay, flavor's rowdy play, it’s a brand-new day, come what may, I’ll stay with this.

 Ginger takes the lead, dill chips and chia seed, vanilla bean and peppermint leaves. Chili flakes on potato cakes, onion rings and worthy things.

 I’m all in.

December wind cools the already cold air.  The morning walk is bundled and pulled inward, so unlike the early Autumn walks, the rolling up of sleeves, short skorts, and morning humidity heating me up and slowing me down just a little while ago. Today I choose the long, puffy coat with the generous hood.  A pair of gloves are conveniently stuffed inside its pockets left there the year before. It's turtleneck-time and corduroy-rhyme.  It's long socks for tall boots and scarfs pulled snug around the neck. The garden rows all needy and running wild in June now must wait. The sowing of seeds, the pulling of weeds pause to the season of cozy blankets and warming thoughts tossed around on soft chairs. It is time for the steaming cup of chamomile and lavender tea, a candle wafting fragrant scents into the air, the stove top boiling broth and herbs making the house a scrumptious, homey thing. I'm all in. Morning monotony be damned?  It is this glorious sameness I crave.  It is in these rhythms that I've found an understanding friend. I'm all in.