Photo © Carol Bergman 2026
The temple bell stops—
but the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers
-Matsuo Bashō, 1644-94
Every morning, I sit at my long library table facing the Minnewaska Ridge and write in my journal for an hour, or more. In the winter it is often dark when I put up the kettle for tea—a preference that reminds me of my years in London—and then the sky either brightens and floods with light, or remains overcast, the clouds hanging low over the village. I marvel at the changes in the weather, but am in a way indifferent to it. Whatever the weather outside, or in my mind and heart, pen in hand, I continue to write.
The solace of being a "creative," as we are called in the era of AI, is deep and sustaining. So too the privilege of encouraging writing in others, my students. I have mentored an exemplary private workshop this past year which has given me pleasure. I have walked every weekend with a friend, and made a new friend or two, a creative expedition in itself. New friendships later in life are both a challenge and an exploration. They require patience and deep listening. Who is this person? What has happened to him or her—or them—in their lives before we met? Does it matter if we have everything in common, or nothing at all? Or if there is an age difference, now that I am older? My curiosity about everyone I meet is unbounded. I am grateful for each encounter and the tantalizing promise of connection.
The holidays came and went. Our daughter suggested that grown-ups refrain from exchanging gifts this year; it's a year for donations. We agreed. Family arrived from overseas and the pace of life slowed, as it did during Covid. We ate sumptuous meals together and talked into the night. We drove home on a quiet mountain road and felt like intruders as a deer crossed our path, the car slowed to a near standstill, the quiet of the winter forest settling on us.
The world beyond our borders is not at ease, and we will be hard pressed to ignore it as we grapple with distant troubles, and those closer to home. We have rested, we have paused, and it is now time to begin again, to gather our strength and press on into the new year.