Again with the mood descriptions that don't fit what I'm feeling. I guess that's one of the reasons I never answer polls that want one or two word basically canned responses. Their words just don't "fit."
The bed, in its infinite wisdom, gave me the heave ho at approximately 6:30 this morning. I get up for work at 6:30 anyway, but gee whiz, criminy, and all those other adjectives.
On the other hand, I had time to appreciate a small miracle. There is a tall evergreen directly east from our house and about two blocks away. A very, very large evergreen tree. I believe that piece of God’s creation is fifty feet tall if it’s an inch and right now it is directly in the path of the sun as it rises.
I spent about half an hour over my morning coffee watching the sunbeams move from place to place in the yard as the sun moved behind that tree. A day lily here, some black eyed susans there. Brush a coneflower or two on one side of the plant, abandon those two and find others on the other side of the bush. Pass by the butterfly bush, and then come back. Leave everything in the shade for a moment, except for one glowing white geranium. Change the angle a bit, come a little higher and hit the white climber and the neighboring red clematis full force. Nature painted a landscape for me. A very transitory landscape. She’ll be back in the morning, but something tells me it won’t be quite the same. And that’s what makes it magical.
I can try to capture the scene with words. They are pale, very pale reflections. I can freeze a moment on film. It’s just not the same. I get this feeling very near frustration when I can “see” in my mind what I’m trying to say but the words I have don’t fit what I want to say. At times like this I feel like I need words that haven’t been invented yet. But that won’t help because I’m the only one who would know what the words mean. Is this making ANY sense?
1 week ago
3 comments:
There are times that all you can do is just sit and watch as the Creator puts on a personal show, just for you. No words, no pictures, just boundless appreciation... Lisa :-]
Sounds nice and serine.
Amy
http://journals.aol.com/visionarydiva1/ABookClubforJLanders/entries/1989
I think your words in your 4th paragraph captured the scene very well.
I can't really recall the last time I've stopped and took in a magic moment as you just describe.
Going back to early spring, or around then, I saw a sight that should have been considered beautiful but instead I found to be worrisome and foreboding.
And that was the aurora borealis. Mostly the color was a shimmering whitish blue. And along the horizon to the north were several shimmering sheets of lights, and over head was a jet stream of light that seemed to be in constant motion. sometimes disappearing completely to suddenly reorganize itself. All together it filled up about half the sky.
The problem is that I live in the mid-west and have basically lived in the same area for 37 years and have not once seen or even heard of the aurora borealis being sighted around here. The sight of it worried me a bit, I knew activity on the sun causes the northern lights, so I figured that something big must have happened up there.(The thought that one day the sun might burp or hiccup and take out the earth crossed my mind. ) It turned out to be what they call a massive coronal ejection. But it made me think, how ancient humans 30,000 or even 10,000 years ago may have looked up at the sky seeing falling stars, comets,eclipses and maybe felt fear or gave it all somekind of superstitious importance.For I stood outside, looking up and pacing about a bit, thinking over and over in my mind, that this isn't suppose to be up there, and yes, even though or maybe because I knew the auroa borealis was caused by particles from the sun striking the magnetic field that surrounds the earth, I still felt a certain amount of unease and even a bit of fear.
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