THERE IS AN UNSPOKEN CHORUS I SEEM TO GET LOST IN WHEN WINTER ROLLS MY WAY – THE SUN WILL NOT RETURN TO US. IT’S A LIE OF COURSE, UNRAVELING DAY AFTER DAY AS THE WARMTH SPREADS THROUGH MY MORNING WINDOW.   His light is a far off promise of some other age – but when the cold air pools and settles, I believe the lie fully and completely. Yet the ground beneath our feet knows sacred Truth and offers us a chance to craft our own warmth with her offerings. “Ginger root, love,” she tells us. Grandmother Ginger stirs the cauldron, tending the fire that reaches our bones, spreading her warmth over us. Full of minerals like copper, potassium and magnesium, ginger root…