Persephone's descent into the fog under persistent gray skies.

Up until today when winter suddenly returned...overnight in fact. we awoke to white yards and slush...yes....up until then.....we had been lost in misty fog..

Familiar landmarks became fuzzy and the distance was obscured.

I have not made it down to delve into the basement...perhaps lost in the fog on the 3rd or 4th step down...as grey days press in..remembering a long ago time in England and Ireland... where gray skies are the norm....

My descent into the basement is focused on my brothers art, my fathers books and all the ambivalent acutremain a basement can collect...

If I go up another flight I am back in the world of my Island life...from the years 1975 to 1979.. 

Despite the many gray days I lived through there, the experience comes clearly into view now...some 35 years later...
I recall the old stone cottage I lived in..the stone walls, the silence, the wind, the wizened islanders who knew so much about the wind and the sea...and I recall the pressing in of the gossip....wisdom and wind, sea tides and seaweed...a dog I once had...cats I fed...uncertainties I felt..belts I wove..friends I made and all it surrounded by solitude and gray skies...yes with these persistent gray skies I remember it all..

so there are pulls in two directions...upwards to recall my island life and down once again..down into the underworld of my basement that begs to be sorted out by spring..

Sunshine is promised for tomorrow.