The weekend after

This morning started with ease, first reading a wonderful letter from Angela in Toulouse, France sharing her Saturday morning activities and filling me in on her calligraphy group that I had asked about. With the weather outside sunny along with a chilling breeze, I remained in bed, contemplating today’s entrée, while a reply to Angela needs to wait just a little longer.

The day after thanksgiving was spent emptying the dishwasher, washing the remainder of the dishes, finding room in the refrigerator for all the leftovers, putting the dinning room back to the way it was prior to the festivities, and then a trip into the garden to collect the many piles of leaves that have fallen in the last two days. There were also the remains of a twelve-foot tree, which needed further cutting up. The smaller pieces liked twigs and small branches were recycled with the rest saved to the woodpile for use in the fireplace on cold nights.

During my time spent outside, the weather was like an unpredictable card game, with dashes of grey clouds sprinkling a fine rain now and then. Before the heavens opened up again and reveal a warm sun against a blue sky, it would disappear only to reappear twenty or so minutes later. When the work had finished and front door closed, I sat at the kitchen table looking out the window at the bird feeders hanging from our cherry tree. I watched the bird’s social interaction with each other, when our returning scrub jay made a racket and chased the other ones away.

While picking at the feeder he continued to sound off a warning that was only broken up by a sudden loud rolling thunder. Within two minutes, a torrential downpour began drenching and flooding our neighborhood. It lasted several minutes before passing on, returning our area to a peaceful calm in the remaining ten or so minutes of dusk before the sky was cloaked in darkness.

Now the sounds of crows are heard as fresh morning air enters through the open sliding door, awakening the spirit and I embrace a new day. I reach for my small buff coloured Moleskine notebook that is the size of a 3 by 5 inch index card, the one I carry with me at all times. I flip through its pages of scribbled down thoughts, potential ideas for a post or a few lines of a possible poem that rests between a to-do list or two, until I come to my pages of lists.

Only two posts ago I was languishing adrift without direction on various levels since my post ‘General Update’, which now feels like a distant memory. It helps to write things down, working out obstacles or the lack of direction and along with a little patience, ones own writings offer possibilities. My list of potential topics emerges over the days and begins to define the blogs goals and eventually its purpose.

There are still other things requiring my attention, such as selecting a noteworthy blog to recommend for the month of December, along with a museum exhibit by Sunday. Then there is the phone call that I received last night, asking for my help with a family matter in Southern California that would require my driving down in a couple of days. It seems that when one thing is completed, another challenge emerges, for now I will enjoy an early afternoon winters day visiting with neighbors and in the evening site down and answer a few emails before retiring for the evening.


Ange said...

It sounds like the flow of your daily life is very harmonious and that you live both in a very beautiful place, and know how to appreciate it... I too find that writing things down helps to clarify directions. But invariably - it is life that takes us on its merry dance - whatever our best laid plans. I am learning about calm acceptance (not to be confused with resigning myself to inevitabilities), and with that glorious new opportunities arise... Looking forward to seeing where this takes you. Your friend, Ange

John M. Mora said...

I visited before and the image was missing - odd - but suddenly an angel appears and it is bathed in crimson Japanese maple leaves - I would love to see your best for the remainder of your weekend.

Scrub jays - I miss birding in California.

...mmm... said...

How very nice to meet your Egmonst. I do hope you can come to tea. We'd ahve much to talk about as I am a graphic designer adn wan to do fine art more too. Do take care, thanks you for your visit.

La Dolce Vita said...

so nice to know that you had a lovely thanksgiving, I did as well.
glad you have found your direction... isn't it wonderful to give up control for just a bit until we know for certain where we are going and then GO there?

yvonne said...

I love how you savor each moment and how you can put it into words. Each of us need to learn to enjoy those little things that are really the big things in life.

Jill Z said...

Love your writing style, as if I'm listening to the narration of an epic story- one word and one thought and one action to create a vision at a moment in time. Just beautiful.

I think I read in a comment of yours that you would love to find an old authentic key. I have often seen such keys on ebay that are available for purchase or bidding.

Calli said...

I was just about to say what Ange above has said about your life being harmonious. I love the way you have described your day, your moments. Very poetic in nature.

thank you for sharing!Oh, and I adore the photo!

John M. Mora said...

I realy admire the work of Irving Penn - you used the word elegance and that one word captures Penn's work better than most- this seems like a great show.

Digital photography has killed much of what was the darkroom, even more so rthe conceptual link between film's exposre and what is dodged and burnt.

Anonymous said...

I recently came accross your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I dont know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.


Marina Colombo said...

Egmont, un giorno un mio amico sacerdote mi ha detto: "Marina, tu cosa preferiresti essere: un diamante purissimo o un lago di montagna?" ed io risposi:"bhe, se ci penso non saprei quale scegliere, tutti e due sono bellissimi, trasparenti, mandano riflessi di luce, ma se devo proprio sceglierei il diamante perchè è una pietra preziosa che vale molto!". Il mio amico prete mi rispose:"no! il lago di montagna ha qualche cosa in più che il diamante, pur nel suo inestimabile valore non avrà mai!" ed io:"ah si? e che cosa?". Lui mi rispose:"il lago di montagna cambia colore a seconda del tempo, si increspa al soffio del vento, ghiaccia in inverno, il lago di montagna ha un'anima!" - Ora penso che il più bel complimento che posso farti dopo aver scoperto il tuo blog sia proprio questo: Tu sei un limpido lago di montagna!