I want to hold onto this day – the way I want to hold onto that first snowfall – that first warm day in the spring – the first day the woods are full of green again. We are surrounded by colours that are beyond imagining. I cannot close my eyes and conjure up these reds, these oranges and yellows and blacks. The beauty strums my heartstrings. And when it pulses like this – shines and glows – you know … you know it is almost ready to let it all go. And then the skeleton of the trees will drop their shoulders, sigh and wait … And I’ll wait with them.
Around here waiting is never a slow process. It is filled with books, and donkeys, and podcasts and writing and artwork, baking, and housework and cats needing conversation and keets needing company. There is hay to put out and hay to fork away. Paddocks to clean and barns to freshen up. There are skies to watch for signs of rain … and dare I suggest … signs of snow. There is the moon to watch over it all – a super moon this week.
I know I’m ‘listing’ … I read Oliver Sacks’ book “Gratitude” last night. It moved me. I share his incredible wonder at the importance of every day – every moment really. We are alive for such a short time. (It seems shorter and shorter as I get older …) We are dead for much longer. We are part of an incredible reality that stretches across an entire planet of so many landscapes and cultures … out into a universe that is SO HUGE that we are grains of sand in comparison … and then even beyond that universe into so many more. It really smacks me into a fugue state of wonder.
I am grateful. Grateful for the people that came into my life and became touchstones. Grateful even for those that brought hard knocks and difficult lessons. Grateful for the chance to live the ‘lives’ that I have. To have been a child when we could wander for miles – just kids hanging out – hiking – swimming – climbing trees and exploring all day to come home when it got dark. Grateful for the experience of being a teenager in the 70’s – with the freedom hard won in the 60’s – before the sobering epidemics of the 80’s. Thankful that I found my way into teaching when jobs were hard to come by. Thankful that my classes brought me interesting people, creative opportunities and the knowledge that hard work is rewarding. Grateful for a chance to pursue my passions in retirement.
Grateful for the calm and the opportunity to feel so grateful tonight.