Winter has renewed itself again, transforming through the night to reveal a new canvas covered in white. Icicles broke from the door frame as I swung it open this morning and caught myself in a pool of white: untouched snow on the ground, snow-covered branches on every tree, and a soft gray sky creating a quiet globe that I stood in.
I turned North, East, South, West, Skyward, Earthward, and finally Inward, inhaling and exhaling as I honored each direction. Just as I brought my hands together in prayer, a woodpecker drummed in the forest. Last summer, woodpecker came to me in a dream, and since has been with me reminding me of my path. I’ve seen Downy, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, and Pileated at different times, in flight and on trees, heard their calls and different drums. Today was the first day I’d heard the drumming–the fast beat of a downy–for almost a month. The last time had been a sunny day I spent alone, writing and resting, claiming space for myself.
When we show up again, we realize our teachers are still there. I am still listening. My heart is still open. My spirit is renewed with the snow.