Straw Into Gold

Went for a walk on the beach today. There was a very cold wind. The beach grass had been bleached out by all the winter weather. It was this crazy vibrant yellow colour like the straw spun into gold in Rumpelstiltskin. I had Astrid in the carrier with my coat around her. We went back on a path through the woods. We were breaking the ice propped up along the grass of the path as we went along, which was very satisfying.

Now it’s later, Astrid and I are at home. I stood with her in the carrier in front of the window for a long time, listening to music and watching the clouds turn from bright pink to dusty grey-violet. Watching the waves rolling in endlessly. It stays light outside quite late these days. It’s something I’m still not used to in February after all those years of Swedish winters. It’s wonderful but today it made me feel uneasy. It made me feel the time to hibernate is over and the time for action is here. It made me feel I can’t hide from things: what work I have to do, what I should be and become. Uneasiness that I feel the need for action but don’t yet know what that action is. That the time is here but I don’t know time for what.

Do I feel like change is coming? Isn’t change always coming? There’s no hiding from change, but sometimes I don’t want it. I want the stillness and safety of now. This pocket of time, with my baby close to me, and the red amaryllis blooming on the windowsill. It’s in full bloom; it doesn’t have a hint of decay yet. No sign of its time being past. Its time is simply now, and it is perfect now. I love this now: watching the wind in the trees outside, hearing the woodstove crackle, hearing Astrid cooing, watching the gentle lamplight falling against the wall.