Winter is a field set for the imagination. It is a theatrical introversion. There is so much going on as life curls into a ball to sleep - the level has changed -the activity is deeper down toward the core and the sounds are slower and muted. Some things flourish in the slanted light, in these shorter periods of sunlight. Dreams are at a fever pitch - processing all that is and will be. The winter field projects images of unknown allies, allows for visitations and encourages unusual encounters.