The stone garden muse has been literally snowed under and so have I: on every level.  Buried with work and piles of papers, laundry and snow growing is this winter’s metaphor. It was time to drop everything a visit Her.  The icy crust made walking difficult but I was determined to get up close and personal, in her stony face if you will. No matter what the angle she remained serene and pure Zen. The stillness of her in the virgin cold calmed me. Just be. Be frozen, be melting, be whatever is. It’ll change soon enough.