night-stars[1]

I danced naked with girlfriends around a big campfire to celebrate the winter solstice.  Each gal wore a pair of colorful fingerless gloves knit by me during the post surgery convalescence.  We left our boots on (and our hats, coats, clothes) but we were naked in spirit.  The solstice meadow is a special place on my mountain made more special by the ritual we shared on this winter’s eve.  Fueled by a bit of wind, the fire got wild and crazy.  We tossed our meaningfully crafted wood sculpture offerings into the flames, held hands and opened our hearts to the spirit of the longest night.  Giggling gleefully, we kicked up our heels and the snow while we spun about under the stars.  Goofy gutsy glorious girl stuff.