Friday, October 26, 2012

My coat and it's treasures

It is now cold enough here that I need my coat, not my sweater, not my jacket, my coat.  It's not really anything special. It's a black, wool pea coat. It's warm, reasonably waterproof, and didn't cost a fortune. The boys have ones just like it.  Colin wears a longer single breasted version. (I must say, we look awfully cheerful in our funereal winter wear.)  I always get a little thrill that first day I need my coat.  It means that dark half of the year has arrived, and I no longer have to fear roasting or wearing tank tops.

Bundled up in my coat, I reached into its huge pockets and found treasures.  Last time I wore it was before Beltane, and I had left a few things behind.  There was a piece of rock, with a quartz vein rubbed smooth my ocean and sand, some beach glass in different colors, and small chuck of wood.  I don't know why I left these things in my pocket, but I did.  The discovery was one of those moments when you can hear the faeries laugh at a joke you didn't hear, and it never fails to be magical.

Now, they are little worry stones for me to run my fingers over.  They are far from home, and I have long forgotten why I picked them up, but they connect me to another time and place.  Patiently, they have waited for me to find them again, to give them new purpose.  Maybe, they are my talismans for winter.  Whatever you want to call them, they're pretty magical.

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