January is a month stepped out of time.
In my tiny part of the Northern Hemisphere it can sometimes feel like the seasons are racing down hill, ever faster into and after one another. Whereas January is a pause.
You know in January the trees are bare, the earth is quiet, the sky is cold. There is no pace to the season, no momentum, it is just clean and cold and still. As refreshing as a long, cold drink. A deep breathe.
I often believe I do not like January, but it arrives, and I find that just isn’t true. I love its stillness, its cleanness, its reliability to be the same. It is not fickle like the months of Spring and Summer with their changeability and unbridled energy.
There is nowhere to hide in January. When the leaves are gone from the trees, you can see the shape of…
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