(no subject)

In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature.----Edna O'Brien


Big things are going on for me, but I'm finding that I don't want to talk about them here. It's not that I don't want to share. It's simply that I haven't yet found the words to properly convey all of the shades and textures of it all. There is a story coming, though; and springtime is perhaps more appropriate for its telling than winter, so I'll let it hibernate a while longer.

It's been a quiet time for me of late, but I do still read and keep up with everyone even though I haven't been writing or commenting much. I'm off to the freezing north for a week. See some of you soon. : )

Oh, and for Scott: It was always obvious that Grendel was the real hero. You remember that too, ok?