Once Upon a Horse

There is winter where the snow is sifted thought

Caught in the instant of forgetting, falling

There is winter where ringing reindeer run

In a myth of jolly light beginning

And there is now, our winter woven between

Running, remembering, and going

I will tell you of the fields, the way they spring,

The way they taste.

You will tell me of the sky, of the pine trees

How they birth shade.

We will tell of the seasons in their roundelay

Dreaming in this chilly glade

Winter is for stories.

And here is an excerpt from this year's Christmas ghost story:

There's a court at the end of the street with all the Christmas lights, a court that was never built out. No houses, no signs of life. No street lights. I don't know what they use it for during the rest of the year, but it allows people looking at Christmas lights to turn around, easy.

It's just dark. And I'm sure there's water just off that downslope. Houston's a swamp and we're not far enough out of the city to be out of the slough. So that's where Remy sees the rabbit. He yells out "Giant rabbit!" as we're turning but I don't see it. He's driving, so he slows down. I get antsy in this area, all the big houses...and we don't know anyone. I tell him to keep driving.

He does. The first time. But we get turned around. There's an inflated snowman and and an inflated Death Star and we laugh about ice and revenge and Remy makes a turn and then--there they are again. We have to make the same circuit. Then we're back in the dark and the rabbit is there again.

This time Remy stops the car. Insists on the rabbit, and on how big it is. How fast it moves.

He shifts the car into park, reaches across and opens my door, which is nearest the curb. He asks me to see if I can get a shot of the giant rabbit with my phone. Maybe it'll hop back now that the car's off. He rolls his eyes when I don't immediately climb out of the car. It would make a good picture, he insists. Like that time we took pictures of the rabbits in the fields by the airport, that one summer we went to a local scifi convention. Remy is convinced that it must be a tame rabbit, probably gets fed by "all the kids in the neighborhood." He imagines that they probably have tea parties in this court in the summer. I assume he associates tea parties with the balconies and columns we've just seen festooned with Christmas lights and inflatables.

I want to get back in the car. It's not a rabbit holiday and it's dark. Dark and chill and, with the car stopped, I can smell the nearby creek. I can also see a slight trail. No rabbit, but I wonder, with all the floods and what not...why a trail?

And that's it for now. Will she follow the trail? What's with the giant vanishing rabbit? Exactly what kind of Instagram story is this going to be? The new year may bring resolution! (wait...was that a joke?)

Hope this finds you at the beginning of a marvelous holiday and that good things are resting on your doorstep, waiting to come in and curl up. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and see you in the new year!!

-- Chrissa