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
