Weather Report: Before Bleak Mid-Winter

W
e woke early on a Thursday in December to snow, feathers from the heights, falling, filling the air, the roads, the fields.

In the dark and the white, the internet connection had fallen still... hushed too. Roads lay still and closed, empty of cars, full of winter.

At the farm, we worked. We read. We prayed. We played. We ate. We wrote. We fed stock and shoveled and sat by the fire.

And under the duvet of down, all the outer world slept quiet.

Only the wind moaned.

(Or view at youtube: the most ethereal singing of In The Bleak Mid-Winter. Please scroll down a bit to pause the music in the sidebar, (just press the larger half button in the center at the bottom of the player) and take a moment to listen? This is deeply worshipful...moves me to tears...)

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