I have been a little smitten with nesting things as of late. I have fallen in love with the little nesting Matryoska dolls from Russia all over again. I have a newfound affection for Noah and all his animal friends piling together into the safe and warm ark to ride out the storm eventually to find themselves in a new world.
It is this time of year, with the cold damp, yes. But it is also the little child about to be born that makes all things warm and cozy and together seem so much more meaningful.
We have sort of nested into our own home, venturing a few blocks here and there, but for the most part, staying very close to home. We have rediscovered the little secret niches of our neighborhood
I have always thought this is such a wonderful time of year to have a baby. I play music and sing songs about the wonder and goodness of a tiny baby whose birth changed the world. There is a reverence and joy that is palpable as neighbors smile and offer their holiday wishes. All my children are born by the light of a Christmas tree, cold winds outside, the warmth of family and Christmas inside.
My winter babies snuggled close to their mama, still wrapped in the dreamy mists from whence they came, as the quiet cold wraps us all in its stillness. Perfect.
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