Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?- Mary Oliver
Little Stars of December
An Advent series from The Quiet Holler
December comes quietly to the mountains, slipping in on a thin veil of cold and early dusk. This time of year has always made me tender—aware of the small things that catch the light, the homemade traditions that carry more memory than ornament, the way a single fragrance can open a whole season.
So this month, I’m gathering those little moments.
The old ways and the new.
A few stories, a few memories, maybe a bit of folklore.
Tiny bright things—like the crocheted snowflakes I found tangled in a thrift store bag, or the clove-studded oranges that once perfumed my grandmother’s kitchen.
I’m calling the series Little Stars of December.
Because that’s what these pieces are: small glints of beauty, steady and simple, shining against the darkening days.
I hope these daily offerings bring a bit of warmth to your Advent season, the way the mountains have always brought it to mine.
Just click on the stars above and it wil take you to Little Stars of December.
Debbie
Click on the stars and it will take you to the daily posts in Little Stars of December.
The Quiet Holler
Welcome to The Quiet Holler — a resting place for second chapters and slower days.
Once, my life moved to the cadence of courtrooms and deadlines.
Now I listen for gentler things — wind threading through the trees, a creek whispering over stone, the hush of morning fog settling in the valley.
This is a place of remembering —
of kin and land and the stories that echo in these hills.
I’ve returned to the mountains that raised my ancestors, to soil stitched with memory, to seasons that offer their own steady prayer.
Here, I am learning to go slowly.
To trade urgency for presence.
To let the ordinary be holy.
Chop wood. Carry water. Live in the quiet.
Welcome, friends.
