Each year I dread winter and what is coming. It's the time of year when I struggle to create and to remain positive. August is my worst month. I always think it will be the winter solstice in June with the longest night when the blues hit. But June with its crisp days for exploring and cold nights for snuggling is fine. Then I think it's going to be July when I crash. July sees me writing up a storm and baking tasty winter teats to fill our bellies. I manage to get through June and July with a sense of wonder and gratitude. Then comes August.

It's August when I unravel. When I find myself bursting into tears over the smallest things. When I run out of inspiration and have no creative ideas. When despair makes its home in my heart. When I feel as if I cannot go on, cannot take another step. When I am done.

I thought this year I would be immune as I was spending part of August in the tropics. I was wrong. Oh boy was I wrong. The tears still came and swept me away. Not wanting to come home certainly didn't help with the August blues.

And yet...

even in the darkest times, there is still light

and in the dark there is hope

and warmth

and friendship

and love.

In the middle of the despair, I made a basket with harakeke (a New Zealand flax plant) and lomandra (a native Australian grass). Slowly weaving myself back together with craft and companionship and sunshine and blue skies and an open fire in the bush with my daughter sitting by my side, weaving her own story from grass and hope and truth. And love.  Always love.

Big love to Mel from Firekeepers for harvesting the harakeke from her friend's garden and bringing it along. Huge gratitude to Mel mentoring our weekly nature gatherings in the Darebin Parklands (an incredible urban wilderness in the heart of Melbourne). Mel also runs a rewilding session for adults in Melbourne on Fridays with the incredible Claire Dunn.