It’s mid-January now, just past the Wolf moon, or Quiet Moon, which is already waning. Last Sunday, as the pink light of
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It’s mid-January now, just past the Wolf moon, or Quiet Moon, which is already waning. Last Sunday, as the pink light of
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So many things to say and no ways to say them. I try to coax them out anyhow. I close the door
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2025, the year I'm committing to myself – to the mystery – to the magic.
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