Just Another Day

When one lives alone what makes one day a holiday compared to other days? If stores were not closed, traffic perhaps heavier and no mail delivery, would one day be different from another?

As the moon slipped beneath the mountains and the sun began to ascend, I gathered my little dog and we went to the mountains' lake. Walking in the silence of our footsteps upon the gravel, the silkened night sheet was gently covered by the blue dawn's quilt and the day, just another day, awakened.  Amazed at the magical blue of the sky and whiteness of the clouds the sound of geese turned my eyes.  A flock of geese flew down towards the lake but did not land.  Flying just above the water, suspended in the air, the morning sun gifted a sight I had never seen in all the seasons of migration I have watched.  There, upon the surface were the shadows of the geese.  I have seen the water splash and ripple as their wings and feet touched and danced but I have never seen the shadows move between the water and the geese.  Having seen the shadows fly without creating a single ripple, at last, with songs of joy the geese landed and found their rest.

When one lives alone what makes one day a holiday compared to other days? The sun's touch warming your cold cheeks and nose. The sound of graveled foot stepped silence. The sight of shadows dancing beneath water and winged geese.  The feel of the earth as you fall to your knees with your hands to your heart as your neck bends so your head can join your hands. The whispered voice of 'thank you' as tears fall and dance upon the earth.  Just another day. Another day of giving thanks.

Namaste to all. Happy Thanksgiving

"Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears." ~ Albert Camus

Thread of Night

A magical day, no matter its contents, the magic rests in that you were present and part of it. And now, as the moon dances her way across the star glittered sky, the Magic prepares to turn the page to yet another day, first kissing Her fingers which are placed upon your eyes for sleep and then quietly to turn the page as you dream. To awaken in the morn to another page scribed in magic contained in a book that bears not the words, "The End."

Labor Day Blessing

May the pause of your labors, give reflection of pride for all you do -do not forget to praise yourself.

May the pause of your labors allow your feet to move towards your dream, upon the soles of ‘what if.’

May the pause of your labors issue forth a blessing within your heart for the millions who have no work, food, shelter, water and exist upon the sustenance of dust.

May the pause of your labors celebrate the changing seasons and give cause to notice nature’s symphony and painted canvas beckoning you to come and play.

May the pause of your labors be not the pause of your laughter.

May the pause of your labors remind you to breathe, and enjoy the breath.

May the pause of your labors so delight your eyes, come tomorrow, you eagerly seek to see yet again.

And may today, you know only the effortless labor of love.

Blessings.

A Growl, Screech, Eeeek and a Blessing

I have no photo that resembles the thread. I giggle to think I am almost glad I have no photo.  So bad the pain last night, as Friday became Saturday, I stepped outside on the front porch with my faithful little scruffy white companion.  Nature's gentle cool breeze gathered us both in a most gentle embrace.  Eyes closed, listening to the wind's whisper I felt the sound of the breeze change. Opening my eyes, at the same time my little dog jumped against the screened porch wall, four eyes met two and in the night breeze a screech, an eeeeeek and a growl could be heard. There standing on his hind legs about to take down the bird feeder on the other side of the screen was a rather large bear. If he (or her) had extended his reaching paw towards the screen, we could have shook hands and introduced ourselves.  With his muttered growl, the little dog's screech and my own eeeeek, I gathered my little friend and into the house we scampered.

Sitting, now with two pains - laughter and the other- I explained to my frantic companion the bear was simply hungry.  Our drought has been unkind to all life. Watching the sun rise I went out to feed the birds, wondering if the feeders were still intact. The empty feeders were intact.  I giggled aloud to think of last night and pondered a simple silly thread - What do a blue moon, a brown bear, a white dog and pain have in common?  One smiles, one growls, one screeches and one cries. When you mix them together, with a gentle midnight breeze, you have but one sound, laughter, you have but one feeling, blessed peace.  And that, for anyone who should happen to read, is simply grand.