Theres always this moment in between the changing of the seasons, where the air sweeps a bit more swiftly bringing chills through the bones, where the leaves have fallen to the Earth and all that resides are the strong conifers of the lively forest. I live in the in between. A spring afternoon and a fall crisp morning. Twilight and predawn. Turquoise and purple. Dreams and reality. The in between is a refuge we all know to be true, that what happens in the in between is not permanent but ever changing. Theres something about the way change makes the Earth come alive. When the in between is dancing before our eyes.
WARRIOR WOMAN 