Winter telling me to move on
The Cailleach found me in the depths of North America, swirled round my tiny home, bent a few failing ash trees & left a swarm of songbirds emptying my feeders.
But she swept away the miasma long enough to tell me that the air is the problem, and I must make plans. Somehow.
But she swept away the miasma long enough to tell me that the air is the problem, and I must make plans. Somehow.