The new year is ushered in as raindrops fall wet on already saturated soil. I reflect on past accomplishments, failures, ideas left undone. The sky is a cool wet blanket of grey, leaves gold and shiny lay in huddled mounds about. Trees reduced to black lines darting outward and upward toward heaven, writing their own story across the tablet of  grey. Winter is hibernating time for me mostly. Pondering the possibilities.