They start deep in the belly
In the deep dark,
In the deep silence
In the dark of the moon

They start as embers, when the day has not yet started and one rises to sit. In the pre-dawn half light.

During this time of day, in the season of winter, there is a penetrating silence. When all motion feels loud in contrast. When sitting is the only response. When the stillness beckons me to listen.

I tune and feel a slow burning fire within that burns like a coal in my winter stove.

Some think the Spring starts in March.
Some feel the season starts when the first sap rises to greet the tree limbs with new life; Some say it is Imbolc, or St Bridget;s day, when magical tradition meets practical lambing and helps to catalyzes change in our environment,

We can see the visible sparks begin to emerge from the Earth for new life during these later Spring days.

For me, and for the birds, it starts now.
When the moon is still dark, and sun occluded by the earth. When all feels like stillness at the bottom of the ocean, or in the thick of a kelp forest.

In the stillness of the dark moon.

All quiet, a small fire ignites and purrs. Deep within an ember grows redder and brighter. A flicker of light burning like the glowing coals in my woodstove, an exhale of warmth and light

Despite the temperatures, the raging storms, the rebellious winds, the cracking of thermometers. Spring is here.
Spring stirs.
Soon to swell and surge

postscript~ I wrote this piece in the new moon, today, indeed the temperatures do drop. Birds hover near feeding sources. Winter calls out a last dance, we revel with this dance partner and swirl with the winds that blow, until the winds have blown themselves out

And stillness will return and remain bright

The Above image created by Nate Marshal, etched in honor of Solstice. and our courage to stay blazing in the storms ~ "The light may be bent, it may be dim.. but it is not extinguished."