A thrumming, low and deepening, began...

Although chilled, a warmer air encircles my home. With wary hope my family begins the day. As I leave to begin my labor the others acknowledge me with looks of confusion.

Echos from the past ride this cold wind around my home. We all stand ready, set pensive, at the sound of it. I shudder at this labor, but the others beacon me with welcoming support.

The air, like a whisper of unknowable wisdom, is deepened cold. My family huddled against this as they join me to behold the day. I too wish to huddle against this thing, but my labor beckons me.

A mid cycle sun besets our home with false hope. Even knowing this reality, my family is well. My labor begins slow, but with dutiful purpose.

A new morning brings lingering questions to my mind. For now I fear not speak them, for my family is well in the face of this new struggle. I will ponder on these things as I begin my labor.

As I wake a soft day greets me. The family slumbers against the cold of the quiet days. As I begin my labor the others here greet me with words as hopeful as my mind wishes.