On the Wing

There are moments when the light lifts. Just so. And I can take a deep breath. With that catch in my throat. And maybe I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath for months. Tight. And then release. At last. It's the birds' fault.

Watching the birds in early spring has a kind of tenderness that makes my eyes feel wider. I think about flying with the wonder of a toddler. The birds are gleeful, singing their arias pell mell over the meadow. It's almost as if they are lifting the light themselves.

Fog Light

I love mist and fog. And a Sunday morning surrounded by mist and fog is just dreamy. The kitties are snuggled near the fire and the world is blanketed with softness.

Sometimes the world is too vivid. Too sharp. Everything seems to have mean pointy edges. Mist mornings soothe the edges. They feel like an impressionist painting that I'm inside. Which I will be soon when I head out for a foggy ramble.

So maybe for me, at times, it takes a bit of fog to clear the heart.

White/Wordless Wednesday

Front Porch Love

There is something about sitting on the front porch with your dog. Watching the world go by. Thinking about whether or not to throw the ball or take a walk or, really, just be. And perhaps that's the miracle of a dog. They know how to just be absolutely in the moment. And love you no matter what. There's no agenda, no issues, no crisis. It all just melts away into that special sound of her snorffling breath while sitting on the front porch. And sometimes, if you are very lucky, she'll just lean into you and stay that way for a long, long time.

Moon Rise

There is a wind advisory on the island for tonight. The night sky is clear at times and then suddenly cloudy. The moon, shy tonight, peaks out from behind clouds to show her face. The beach is showing the petticoats of her white caps as the wind picks up. The day was misty and filled with the mystery of magic and wonder that comes with mist and fog. What's around the next corner?

As this new year yawns awake, I am reminded of all the beginnings and endings we experience in this life. There are moments I am sufficed with joy and enchantment as I work the winter garden or walk down to the beach on country lanes. And then it takes me days to recover from the kind of horror that is Haiti right now. And on the small, personal scale, my mum is mending! And sometimes it's all we can do to simply be present with the little things.

So, this blustery night, I am waiting for the storm to hit, the moon to hide and the sea to come alive and dance. And for tonight, that's just enough.