The old Gods live with us, even now. They provide sparkles on the water, help the fields grow/turn green/ripen, and sing to us in the morning/noon/evening.
They gather close to us all the time, but only at the edges of our lives: the edge of morning, the edge of evening; edges.
But Glimmers—now—they come in all forms, (also).
Saturday—in the mail came a hand-made card from Far Side of Fifty.
Telling me I was in her thoughts.
Glimmers of goodness abound everywhere, always.
Thank you so much, Connie! The card was a lovely surprise-you are so talented. And your handwritten note is a true blessing.
From my world to your heart,
Linda



