So I’m trying something different this week, a pause midweek to reflect while the days and moments are fresh.
Late in the evening, after a summer get-together, my mom & I made our way home. Walking through the neighborhoods in the cool breeze and soft sunlight of 9 pm on solstice. Still a few hours of daylight left and only a short bit left of her visit. We stayed up late looking at her current knit project, an Astrid sweater that had gone a little off track. We did some unknitting and then she began again. It felt good to be able to offer help, to know what to do to and to stay up late knitting with my mom. Heath came home and snapped a few photos on her last night in Cordova.
Moments of love…the best one today was the full engulfing love of my husband, Heath. After we dropped my mom off at the airport I stiffly sat close to the window, with my face turned away, trying to cry silently. The pain of separation, loss, distance…missing.
My husband lifted the center console in our truck, pulled me close and kept his arm there snugly the whole way home. What a reassurance of understanding, compassion and love.
I received a profound email that left me with much to ponder. I was grateful to make my way up the ski hill alone and sink into the solitude available. I had time to feel, time to process, to write. My aloneness was only interrupted by two juvenile eagles playing on the currents of the wind.
Often we’ll see bald eagles flying here, but rarely do I see two flying in tandem. You could see them both surrender to the wind, the push of the currents dictating their movements more than their own volition. It was spell binding.
I took an unexpected dip in the lake again Tuesday night, this is something I will always treasure, no matter how many times I find myself swimming, especially at 61.5 degrees North latitude.
I also watched one of the Secret Sweater Society members start to fall in love with her yarn. It made me grin to see that new love blooming….she just might become a knitter yet. Isn’t that the basis? A covetous lust for color, softness and creation.
My garden’s desire for life.
I’m grateful for the feeling of space, three large days ahead to dive into projects and creations. To explore, to sit with myself, to catch up and write.
So that brings us to today:
I’m grateful for a good rain. Our first in a few weeks. It feels refreshing and cool and allows me to guiltlessly sink into some creative projects indoors.
If you want to join in this exercise of gratitude and pause, please do! Instructions are right here.