time is marked and remembered by flora and fauna and powerful events not a calendar with days checked off. today eye read the message from the land that speaks of the birth of my youngest child. agapanthus in bloom, the wane of hypericum, buckeye in bloom,  first swim in the river and the last ceremonial fire until next year. this is what remains and will always remain when our edges fade and we watch the calendars evanesce from existence. this is our winter count. we carry it in our visceral and astral bodies.