Early days of January, where weather is
best described
as
bleak
hard to remember when last one saw
the sun
or the stars even
grey, grey skies, most often issuing
rain drops instead of
snow
(as January ought to)
this morning I sit down to coffee
and in reverent sort of blissful
anticipation
I slowly and gently open the first pages
of a new book…
where quite possibly never before
have I thought to review a book on the opening
twenty or so pages
yet here I am, thinking if you were to read
even just the first opening thoughts
of Apples On A Windowsill by Shawna Lemay
on life, still life, ordinary life, beauty
light, and how it falls
I can assure you, you will feel yourself instantly
aware
of tenderness
in the world
I’ve been stumbling a bit through
this rather dark and soggy start to the year
you know as family members
disperse
and we ‘begin again’ to
organize, tidy and find homes for
new things
lovely husband, home a little more in the first
two weeks
and most gladly, Head Chef here
has the kitchen a little rearranged
certain areas feel
ever so
slightly
out
of
place
but… in a good way, I suppose
the first couple of weeks after
the holiday, feel like a kind of
waiting period
waiting I guess
for things to
settle in again… (for me, anyway)
of course the lack of sunshine,
the lack of
garden, even wildlife really, with all the rain
and now the cold,
tends to draw on me a bit
my, well documented
general uneasiness in the world
raging quite blatantly, on the inside
a trip to the city, taking our daughter back
to university
the definite signs of time’s passing
on ones face, and in ones
thinking
Anxiety, (capital a)
even something as simple as a decision to not
eat animals
quite unintentionally compromised
by a slight mix-up in a restaurant
the astonishment that registers with the man who mis-
served
when he is met not with indignation
and overwrought
outrage
but instead, with kind understanding
all the unnecessary attention
possibly serving to embarrass me,
more than
him
then growing fears
for an upcoming sinus surgery, I am trying hard
not
to
focus on
and a message this morning
to say a young man has been lost
in a tragic
car accident
possibly all of this, unknowingly carried
then wearily, set down
on the doorstep
of a
friend
who has invited you in
to talk about a trip to Rome
about beauty, and art
and the way the light touches things, in just such a way
about flowers
and
marriage
about life, when it is still
and glimpses of magic, when one is open
to noticing
who will speak to you about things
that you know
and things that you love
in kind conversation
but, like the gentlest morning
meditation
that soothes
sort of wipes the glass clean,
a nod to recognition
a tip
of ones cup
a kind of
balm
for kindred hearts
and a great Hurrah!!
for a growing
gratitude ♥
(where the reader here will note: my side of the washstand on the right, and lovely husband’s side
on the left…)