The Mountains and Me Are Settlin’ In

Christmas has come and gone here in the hollow. All that is left of this blessed holiday, besides the lingering notes of the beautiful carols and my continuing love of the holy Babe, is one ornament that rolled under the corner hutch and a lone strand of tinsel stuck in the broom’s straw.

Like our elders, who on cold nights ease themselves into their rocking chairs before a crackling fire, the mountains appear to be settlin’ in for winter. They seem to hunker down, their trees holding rank against the winter winds. The multicolored lights that shone in the dark nights until Christmas have been packed away. Now the occasional, lackluster white porch light is all that glows up the hollow.

Long, fragrant puffs of smoke rise from chimneys. I like to think the mountains gather the grey plumes onto themselves like blankets, seeking the last vestiges of their warmth.

It is time now for inside activities such as assembling puzzles, reading long awaited books, piecing handwork and enjoying cozy naps. It is time for sipping coffee or hot chocolate laden with marshmallows while watching favorite TV series. It is time for dreaming once again of future gardens and circling plants and seed to order from catalogs while snow and wind dance around the house.

My heated throw feels good on my aging bones. Fake fur slippers are constant companions these winter days and nights. Greta, the dog and Tanner, the cat jockey for prime places near the stove.

I believe, maybe the mountains, although they enjoyed the gathering of kith and kin that made their way home from far away places, are tired of all the hoopla and are ready to rest and keep watch over their homefolk.

I love this slowing-down time of winter. For me it is a time of reflection. I glance over at my husband and give thanks for a long, Godly marriage. I cherish the walls of this old farmhouse that hold loving memories in and keep want at bay.

Yesiree, I feel the mountains and me are settlin’ in.

Come go home with me sweet readers, the coffee is hot and doesn’t a slice of apple pie sound inviting?

Love you bunches,

Dee Dee