A little over a year ago, I was basking in the Florida sun, on the Gulf Coast, scampering along the shore and marveling at the wildlife present and past. The birds especially, so exotic to me but commonplace to those who lived there, enthralled my steps. I could pause and watch them for hours. Empty carcasses of sea creatures were strewn about among strands of seaweed, and shells of all sorts undulated their curvaceous path along the incoming surf. It may seem at odds with the fanciful visage some associate with me, but nowhere am I happier than ambling along a beach, discovering wildlife that is new and foreign to me.

{On this first day of winter, we now return to our regularly-scheduled polar vortex.}

It will become clearer at a later time, I think. Like the first groggy glimpse of the day, sometimes things slip out of focus for a second or two, demanding a second look when better rested. In that gray area between light and dark, when the day seems unsure whether it’s beginning or ending, I stand poised but indeterminate. Back and forth I waver, debating which way to go. This is a new thing. All my life I’ve been extremely good at being decisive, sometimes viciously so. Lately though, I find myself weighing options more than before, hesitating and second-guessing. There are times when such thoughtfulness has proven beneficial. It’s a sign of growing up.

There is nothing major on my mind. No life decisions that will impact anyone else around me. This is merely an internal debate over the plan for the day, or the next day if I happen to have awakened in the middle of the night. It’s so tricky to tell in the dark early hours of winter.

The question is how to start. What, and where, to eat? Sweet or savory? The eternal breakfast conundrum. How best to get there? By foot or mass transit? Boston is small enough for either when the weather is fair. On this morning it is anything but. And there’s that wavering again. Commit and execute. I used to be so good at it.

I decide on a plan and finally look at a working clock. There is an hour or so before I need to leave. A few more moments in a cozy bed, while the snow falls outside. With a basic itinerary in mind, I can relax at last.

As hinted at in the previous post, we are due for some choppy seas ahead. Namely, the return of Mercury to Retrograde motion, which is due to last from December 19 all the way through the 31^st – a nifty little end-of-the-year roller-coaster for which none of us can fully prepare. Usually the moon messes with my emotions, but Mercury isn’t much better. We can, however, harness this crazy energy and ride it out if we so desire, and I intend to do just that. The trick is in being flexible, open to change, and available for last-minute adjustments. It’s the challenging stuff for a Virgo, but this is the time to just go with the flow.

You

know

you

can do it.

Stay tuned for the midday post which will explain why it’s going to be a bumpy ride through the end of the year, and none of it my doing. We will be in this together. But before we move through this rocky, poorly-timed patch, let’s have our usual Monday morning look-back.

Milo Ventimiglia earned his second crowning as Hunk of the Day, and is gunning for a rare three-time win with just one more naked booty scene.

Walking in a winter wonderland.

A Thanksgiving recap.

Manhattan time.

Battle of Brotherhood: Nick Jonas vs. Joe Jonas.

The peace beyond a party.

I gave birth to this year’s Holiday Card, and it was a bloody mess.

A review of Tom Ford’s latest masterpiece ‘Nocturnal Animals’.

All of us just want to carpool with James Corden.

One of the greatest speeches Madonna has ever made.

Rocking around the Christmas tree.

Carp in the cold.

Those Goddamn Christmas carolers.

Do you see what I see?

Doing their best to keep things warm and toasty, these Hunks disrobed for our viewing pleasure: Charles-Laurent Marchand, Kupono Aweau, Daniel Peyer & Tyler Seguin.

Procured from the sea halfway across the world, they stand assembled and stuck in floral form. Both the flower and the seashell aspect feel far from such a cold almost-winter day, but they’re all we have as the wind and snow rages. Winter is the time for inhabiting the imagination.

In the whorls of these designs, I see swirling snow.

In the waves and ripples of this architecture, I see a spinning sea.

Do you see what I see?

They swarm the spot where warmer water splashes into their little pond, huddling together as a December snow falls. Their moves minimal, they manage to expertly float in the tumultuous patch of water. Ice encroaches from the still corners where the water is colder. They are telling us, in their own way, that the world is about to slow down for the winter.

I feel sad to see them like that, even if they are unbothered by the change. Sad to see the winter so close, sad to see innocent animals at the mercy of the weather and the world. Sad at the simple beauty of a snowfall.

Over it all, the Buddha watches.

Stoic, calm, at peace.

The Buddha has seen it all before.