A Certain Light

This morning when I woke up and looked out the windows I noticed

A Certain Light

that captured my senses. It was soft and a little bit golden, and it seemed to paint the landscape outside my windows with a certain ethereal grace. I picked up my camera and made some photos through the windows trying to see if I could distill the scenes as my eye saw them in the early morning light.

I don’t think that I succeeded. But I came as close as I could to the feelings the morning engendered in me. The sun was a soft golden ball of light visible through the trees beside our deck. I saw a couple walking through the park beside our home with their dog and I wished that I was out walking in the soft light myself.

And as with prayer, which is a dipping of oneself toward the light, there is a consequence of attentiveness to the grass itself, and the sky itself, and to the floating bird. I too leave the fret and enclosure of my own life. I too dip myself toward the immeasurable.”
― Mary Oliver, Winter Hours: Prose, Prose Poems, and Poems

It is afternoon now and the skies are mostly cloudy. Though it’s warm enough to walk outside, the streets and paths are partially snow-covered and probably a bit slippery in places. So I went over to the Plymouth Community Center walking track to do some indoor walking. The Community Center was remodeled a year or two ago and now has a beautiful upstairs walking track with windows to the outside and a view of some of the indoor play areas to the inside.

As I approached the building from the parking lot I overheard a woman talking with three young teens as they left the building. I didn’t hear what the kids said but I heard the mom’s reply, “Hey! This is December in Minnesota and it’s almost 40 degrees out. No whining allowed!”

That seems like a pretty good sentiment for me today.

I don’t think I am old yet, or done with growing. But my perspective has altered—I am less hungry for the busyness of the body, more interested in the tricks of the mind.”
― Mary Oliver, Winter Hours: Prose, Prose Poems, and Poems

No whining allowed!

It’s winter. There is snow on the ground. And there will likely be much more snow in days, weeks, and months to come. But I have a warm home to live in, windows to look out at the pond behind the house and bird feeders outside my office. We have plenty to eat, comfortable surroundings, heat, and loved ones nearby.

Life is good.

And we are blessed beyond belief to be living here now.

May you walk in beauty.