This morning, I watched a pink and powder blue dawn. Then, whoa, the whole sky instantly turned golden. My granddaughter texted me that she was driving home from college today. A friend texted to share the sunrise. It’s Monday morning of Thanksgiving week. I won’t pull out the leaves of my big table, polish the champagne glasses, or buy a big turkey. On Thursday, Jim and I will take a walk and facetime my daughter’s family in Canada. Meanwhile, I plan to be grateful for every good moment—for the morning sky, the granddaughter who remembers me today, and for my friends. In “Women Rowing North” I wrote, “Gratitude is a survival skill.” I didn’t know two years ago how true that was.
I woke early this morning filled with jittery, anxious energy. Thank goodness it is a beautiful day. I can ground myself by literally lying on the ground and looking at trees and sky.
On election eve at sunset, Jim and I walked along the southwest side of the lake. It was a windless evening and the reflections in the lake of yellow and orange trees reminded me of a Van Gogh painting. A loamy smell and cooling air rose from the earth. Fly-fishermen in waders and a father and young son fished nearby. We stopped at a little marsh with sandpipers, plovers and woodcocks. At dusk, dozens of Canada geese flew overhead. Experiencing this good moment was deeply calming. Today, when I am feeling frazzled, I am going outside.
I nearly stepped on this snake on a hike today. Do any of you know what type it is?
This morning I woke to fog and a cloud-blackened sky. Dark on black. As I drank my coffee and looked out, I thought my usual dreary first thought, “This sky blends with the darkness in my heart.” However, a few minutes later, I saw a light bobbing my way. A jogger was on the dam heading south. The light grew stronger and brighter until it passed. My heart felt brighter, too. There is something about light that changes everything.
After my sad post yesterday, I wanted to write something more cheerful today. And, fortunately, I can always find something to give me joy. Over a year ago, our environmental group met with some officials from Parks and Recreation to suggest that they plant more indigenous plants in our city parks. This week the naturalist from Parks and Recreation invited me to work with him and volunteers planting prairie violets in Holmes Lake Park. Tom and his crew came over with trays of plugs of the wild violets. He explained to me that he’d selected them because they are pollinators important to the endangered fritillaries. The violets are hardy and spread easily and he predicted that soon the area would have more of these big yellow butterflies. I am grateful to Parks and Recreation for listening to us citizens and for acting in a way that is good for the butterflies and for all of us who enjoy Holmes Lake Park.