Sunday, February 27, 2011

the last of it

Thanks to all the lovelies who entered my little giveaway. I stuck your names in a hat {okay, it was a pot} and pulled one out. 

Betsy! You win! I'll be sending you a little LuSa love shortly. 


Over a fresh dusting of snow, I walk. White that goes on forever, untouched. My prints trail behind me: divot, streeeeak, divot, streeeeeak, heels pressing and dragging across the powder. I can trace exactly where I've been. Anyone can.

Spring isn't here yet but I'm changing the season. Putting on some lighter shoes and walking in a different landscape. I want to leave invisible tracks for now, over rocks and grass exposed under my feet. I'll show you the map when I'm all done. If I ever get there.

I've been scattering words in my wake, a trail of crumbs for a whole year. I want to horde them in my basket now. I want to gather enough to press together into something a little more substantial. Perhaps it won't be edible, but I think it's going to fill me.

And that's what this has been about, all along. Thanks for being here. I'll see you around.