Simple Things Are Richly Beautiful and a Meditation
Today I am reminded of her magic.
Walking out to gather hickory and oak sticks fallen in the night, to use as tender for the first fire of the season in the living room, the thought of the comfort this place has provided, struck me again today.
The front room with ancient pine floors worn at the doorways from feet passing for over 150 years and downy oriental rugs; tables laiden with stacks of favorite books like old friends pulled close to the sofa; the smell of the house-a mix of wood smoke, the fragrance of supper roasting, wood wax and the slight aroma of dog is unmistakable...drunk, blind or dying...I would know it.
The joy of going out to the wood shed to gather more wood is a mediation: Hickory smoke wafting from the chimney gently making a way to my nose; the thick carpet of mossy green in the front yard padded under foot; millions of oak acorns crunch with each step as they cover the rocky quartz rich ground; the sound of woodpecker taps in the old growth hardwood forest.
The deep, deep sound of silence is palpable and a solace. I breath it all deeply in, and am so grateful.
The fire fluttered softly throughout the day as I worked, and read and dreamed. A brisk walk down to the the Hickory grove with Toby. The weather crisp and misty with light rain...exhilarating. Walking back up the hill, golden lights in the windows are beacons to supper. Crispy oven baked chicken, roast potatoes-golden and crisp, roast onions, and slow stewed kale soup waited as if entering a magical fairy tale house after walking from a distant place....the magic of it all is humbling.