As I sit at my desk writing in front of my window, I can see the slightest hint of blue glowing through our mid-fall Portland cloud cover. It hints at the potential for a bit of sunshine, or in the least, some illumination cast over the remnants of vibrant leaves still clinging to the neighborhood trees. I've been making sure the bird feeders are well-stocked and have been tossing liberal handfuls of sunflower seeds onto the fallow garden, and at the moment there is a small swarm of juncos and sparrows, a pair of jocular blue jays, and an impertinent squirrel all vying for the best selection right in front of my eyes. The studio cat looks on with barely concealed impatience.
Over the last several winters, I've been leaning into the winter months with much more comfort and delight. Here in the north we're blessed with long summers with even longer days. The light in the sky stretching well into the night has a certain magic like nothing else. But with such long summer days come equally long winter nights. Thinking about this equality, and the specialness of this quality in the north - not every region feels the distinction of the seasons so acutely - the winter darkness has become almost as welcome to me as the summer heat.
This fall I've been hard at work designing a new line of customizable holiday cards as well as a small run of folk art inspired block printed cards, and I've opened a new online shop on my website. If you haven't taken a look around my site in the past couple of months, please check it out. My Etsy Print and Ephemera shop and Etsy Custom Bindery, Gifts, and Wedding shop are still open, but I'm very excited to begin selling directly from my website.