Christmas Eve comin’ in …

Down the valley the mill makes monsters, rising smoke forms alliances with passing clouds. It all seems so simple really. Sky above, earth below, night time comin’ on. Put a log on the fire and hot tea in a cup. Read a good book and be one with the stillness of it. Christmas is not really my holiday, but the world seems easier for the moment and the inner voices are quiet. A passing breeze brings raindrops.