Images of night and of winter have special appeal to me as the birth approaches. It's getting cold here in northwest Montana, though as of yet there's no snow. Winter is on the brink, just like my delivery. I know it will be dark and painful. I read and hear that many women who naturally labor reach a point of despair and hopelessness, like they absolutely can't go on; this emotional signpost lets everyone know the baby is about to emerge. I have been embracing this darkness, because for the most beautiful parts of life to happen, death or deep night must.
This is the field outside our window a few nights ago. Do you see the low layer of fog, and the way the moon lights up the foreground rocks?
The baby doesn't get his or her own room - just a wall in ours. You can't see it too well, but the big piece is black foam board that I decoupagued newspaper clippings onto in the shape of a moon. The black sky has dark blue swirls in it and tiny yellow beads for stars. The smaller pieces are tornout pages from a storybook decoupagued onto canvases. The story is called "Moon Mouse" and is about a little mouse whose mother introduces him to the wonders of the night!
Here are a few shots from this morning's thick frost.