It’s not Wednesday anymore – I know! Sometimes our good intentions and well-laid plans fall to pieces, and we find ourselves at the end of the week, confused as to what just happened.
I had to stop and think about where the time flew…This week I inched along a highway in holiday traffic, I spent a lovely afternoon in a Victorian tea room with some fantastic women, I cooked and baked goodies for my family, and I just found out I have to pack most of my kitchen by Monday so it can be torn apart. I may have to borrow my friend’s kitchen! Now that I’m not working, eating out is a luxury! And I’ve started writing. Not here obviously, because it’s not Wednesday any more.
What started this week was a good thing too. Me, the person who would put “Mornings” on the “Top 10 list of things I hate” (alongside spiders and crumbs on the floor), crept from my bed at 7 a.m. last Sunday morning. I was up before anyone else, including the sun. I grabbed a hoodie, shoes and my camera and slipped out the front door. I put my shoes on outside so I wouldn’t wake Big Guy who was sleeping on the couch, and there was frost on that front porch. In fact, everything was covered in frost and the thick grass was soggy. I could see my breath, even without my glasses, which were still inside.
The world was still rapt in silence.
Heavy mist veiled the coloured forest beyond the field, and the dampness crept around the edges of sweater and my bare legs (I was still in my nightshirt)! The skyline remained pale gold for a long time, so I wandered around the back. I startled a mourning dove resting in the tall grass, which made something in the trees scold me for waking it too early.
A single crow’s raspy voice blared like an alarm clock.
Ever so slowly, an almost imperceptible golden warmth begin to embrace the trees, creating the impression of trees on fire. My photos don’t begin to capture the contrast.
My legs and toes were cold and my fingers were beginning to ache. I seriously considered going in, but hesitated, thankfully, long enough to see the sun break over the horizon. The higher it rose, the mist grew thicker and began to move.
A few final snaps and it was all over. I sneaked back in the house and crawled into bed to shiver. My fingers were nearly frozen, but my soul was warm.
The soul that is within me, no man can degrade – Frederick Douglass