I don
't quite believe it's already time to talk about gingerbread, but time (the trickster) it marches on, doesn't it? Snow has already fallen, and while I do wish it didn't come so soon, it does add a sparkling beauty to the world around me. When I step out into the world around 6 am most mornings (baker's hours, eeep!) there is a hush over the city while it still sleeps and I'm surrounded by an amber glow from the snow that has freshly fallen. It kind of takes my breath away, this beauty. I stand for a moment in the stillness, breathing in, out. No doubt looking up trying to find the stars; stealing a moment in the stillness before I must carry on with my day. Cycles of seasons never cease to amaze me. Just a couple of months ago, there was a whirlwind of harvest activity. In two more, we'll be fresh into another year. There are bound to be all sorts of big and small and in-between moments ahead. Little bits of
everyday magic, too. Girl talk over good coffee. My mom's hands rolling dough. The laughter of a kid down the street. The quite roar of my kitten's purr while I rub his belly. Fresh flannel sheets, still warm from the dryer. Sleep that comes quickly, easily. An episode of Sex in the City you've never seen before (and you thought you saw them all). The voice of an old friend. Whipped cream, still on the beaters. Flakes of snow on an eyelash. The magic that is eggs, milk, flour and butter in a frying pan. And maple syrup. Always maple syrup.