At winter solstice darkness dominates the days And light seems to fade shortly after its arrival. I marvel at the light. At the sunrise The neighbor’s chimney smoke Graceful and floating Like a dancer in the sky. The sunset that takes my breath away And I linger to look A little longer. I marvel at the light. Everything seems aglow Orange and burning Then quick pinks and purple Gone in a flash. Over and over again. I marvel at the light. I surprise myself And take it all in. Darkness may seem to Envelope and surround. And the bitter chill Nips at my nose. The light that appears is just a little bit brighter, a little bit more alive. I marvel at the light. We take in the light and create our own Be it holiday lights Or candlelight. This little light I hold in my hand It warms our hearts Through and to The brighter days ahead.
Tag: winter
A walk in January
It is unusually warm today in the 50s in southern New England. The piles of snow from last week’s blizzard are starting to melt. Drops occasionally drip on my head from the historical buildings as I walk on by. The snow is dirty. Rain is in the near forecast. It’s gray and cloudy. Remnants of holiday cheer are strewn here and there: bits of broken pine and evergreen and a solo red ornament missing its hook lay on my path.
The snow is melting. I see the turf of green grass at the edge of a wall. There’s litter, a cigarette butt, and tiny pine needles reminding me of what once was there. It’s the kind of day that you wish you could curl up and take a nap or read a book. Rain is on its way.
Whenever I take a walk, I’m reminded that the simple act of walking clears up my mind and breaks up my workday. I will go back to my office and eat a cara cara orange, my favorite fruit this time of year. I’ll enjoy its bountiful juice and eat a piece of sunshine to brighten this dreary day.
Healing Insights 