My own small storm continues; others who have reached out to me are fighting bigger storms themselves. All of these whirlwinds have brought to mind a very short, 300-year-old poem. It always makes me think of silence and safety. I hope some of you find it worth curling up around. (if not, well, never mind!)

Winter Confinement in Shigaraki Village
Last niight's storm was fierce,
As I can see by this morning's
Thick blanket of snow:
Rising to kindle wood chips
In lonely Shigaraki Village.
------Otagaki Rengetsu