6 a.m., nothing
Just last week it was bitter cold. We were wearing our gloves inside. The air seemed brittle. I didn’t want to touch it.
This morning I drove through miles of silver clouds. The still bare trees emerged out of the blueish haze so near the side of the road — haunting and softly beautiful. I wanted to stay there, to stop and experience the slow shifting of light and moisture.
This evening all was absolutely clear, deliciously warm. The clouds didn’t even sneak into the sky until I was 10 miles from home. This expansion of space was breathtaking. My heart and lungs ached to take it in.
At home with the windows open, I was surprised by the distinctive sound of Spring peepers. Maybe we have finally arrived, once again, at the sweetest season.
Cat. Lap. Zzzz.
I woke up with vertigo this morning. I was kinda woozy and cranky all day, but not tired enough to sleep. Headache and mild nausea not withstanding, there were a few perks to laying low today …
1| I am very thankful for electronic gadgets most days, but never more so than in hospitals and on sick days! Today my niece made brilliant use of her phone to share some photos of old family documents — and I was able to vicariously share in the discoveries from my snug little bed. From various school and marriage certificates, to a highly decorative family Bible record, it became clear that we just don’t make these documents the way we used to.
3| This slender block of sun slipped into the room with the last light of day and performed a lovely, subtle show across the art on the wall. A rare audience, I watched it shift and then fade — wishing that I could capture it, share it.
Grace is like musical chairs, where there are enough seats for everyone.
I am to You
As a song to a sunset