Objects moving, objects at rest.

So I have moved (from VT to MN, from a suburb to the middle of Minneapolis, from a three bedroom house to a one bedroom apartment). And now I am in the phase of moving after the first busy part and before the establishment of new routines.  It's usually an unsettled and open time, one good for reflection and long walks, journaling and crafts and catching up on correspondence.  At least, it usually is for me. I've lived in at least 12 or 13 different apartments and houses, and five states. Often enough to start to get a sense of my own patterns.

Productively fallow, that's how this time feels.  It's a lovely feeling.