I stand on the seashore in my mind and feel the ocean's pull loose the sand beneath my bare feet, threatening to tip my already unstable body. Only this time, there is no fear. You leave again, as you must and we wonder when this rhythm will change. Work calls my love far away and the house is quiet and a little more solemn. Our songs that we sing now are sad ones but they fit our mood. I used to think we were in a holding pattern, but I know now that isn't true. There is a garden in this place and if we look hard we can see it blooming right under the snow.