All posts tagged: contentment

Afternoon with the Trembling Giant

I’m convinced that there is no more beautiful spot on earth on the first of June than Cherry Lane. It runs just south of my back yard. When the afternoon spills its light just before dusk, brilliant and lavish, the field grasses on the hillside seem lit from within, topped with flames of white fire. It’s holy. * There’s a stand of a half dozen aged poplar trees on the west side of the lane growing near a small culvert and behind a low, stone wall. The stones cracked free from some ancient lava flow, and now they rest one atop the other covered in lichen and last year’s moss. The poplar leaves rustle in the slightest breeze and always make the sound of a rushing mountain creek. The wet, pungent scent of poplar and the small watery roar instantly pulls me back to when I was a little girl. Dad would drive the old camper truck off onto random forest service roads in Colorado and while mom cooked lunch on the propane stove, we’d …

More Life

The frost lays thickly on branch and windowpane where the sun’s rays cannot reach. It is winter but the days are lengthening by a minute with each rotation of the earth. New Year’s Day may land on January 1st, when we collectively turn the fresh pages of our recently shrink-wrapped calendars, but the new season began its slow unfolding on December 22nd after winter solstice. It went by largely unnoticed, as most of us were in a flurry of holiday preparations, but the earth had already begun it’s slow change without aplomb. Things remained mostly the same: it was still December, still winter, still dark before dinner preparations began. This morning, familiar clatter interrupted my dreams. Back to school, back to work. I pulled my arm, tingling still with sleep, and tossed it over the side of the bed, hoping to aid circulation and drifted back to sleep. As always, my corgi’s wet nose nudged my hand and pulled me to wakefulness. Familiar hunger gnawed and hollowed my insides, and I thought of the eggs …