A blanket of the heaviest cream lays at the crest. 

The Valley is still asleep with eyes fluttering and I am counting down the days until the forget-me-nots blush back into life. 

The namesake lilies.

My cold knuckles, my Achilles heels.

January always feels like the longest version of those few days between Christmas & New Years, not quite a whole month yet so I take it slowly.

Organizing and cleaning, setting myself up for the year ahead. I have ordered seeds, plotted the garden's landscape for the year ahead. Who wants to grow next to who, who isn’t friends. 

Looking ahead at crisp cabbage dressed in salt and lemon and Easter planted potatoes to harvest on my Birthday. 

This quiet and precious life that is mine, that I carved out, that I longed for.