This is not a tidy time of year.

In the garden, it's a losing battle with the wind, cold and decay. With every touch of frost, more perennials get nipped back. For the crinum lillies, that means turning black and gooshy. The papaya tree folds its parasol, regretfully. I rake leaves up around all the garden beds, only to have them blow off again. Paradoxically, this is a time of pristine blue skies in Texas. The sun is much gentler than in the summertime, so you can appreciate the blue. Down below, there's death, disorder and disarray. Up above, all is peace. In life, this time of year is messy, too. Feelings all over the place. Weary spirits that just want to rest under a nice blankie in front of a fire. Expectations rising entirely too high, hopes getting dashed through the metaphorical snow. Longing for absent family and friends collides with gratitude for not having to rush all over the place to see everybody. Down below, all you can see is the sloppy business of being human in a world that seems extremely screwed up on a regular basis. But up above...