Walking with the earth at dusk is a part of my ritual for starting the day. It’s time to spend with the moon as it subtly recesses and with the sun as it rises to light the way. The peacefulness of this time energizes a positive charge for the day. Barefoot and solitary, the cool air glances the skin. The birds hop about amusingly, picking bugs from the garden. The wet, yet warm ground contrasts the air, giving rise to thought and awakening. It’s like waking next to an adored lover – tranquil and brimming with harmony. Embracing the dewy newness of a brand new day, prepared to experience all that is possible and can be, whatever mote it be.
This winter has been particularly harsh. Even here, where our “winter” generally only lasts about 3 weeks a year of cold; it’s been a prolonged time of chilled dormancy. Although the brisk air and flooding rains haven’t been pleasant, they have afforded extra time with something very dear – fog. It envelopes, it diffuses, it obscures detail, and it dampens. Watching the first rays of sunlight streak through its density is quite possibly the observation I admire most. It is a hopeful moment.
I have been so busy with projects, preparing for the spring awakening, with work, and writing, family, and communing with beloved friends that it’s abrupt entrance; dismissing the fog, caught me by aback. Dismayed in the first moments walking about. The sky clear. The air cool, lacking crispness. The duskiness rapidly evolved to strong, pure, and vibrant light. The immediate feeling of warmth as the sun peeked above the horizon brought the moment into perspective. Change happens, sometimes immediately; regardless of my, or yours, or anyone’s comfort with what used to be.
Being shocked shakes things loose. I have been struggling with how to insert a turn of events in a story – the wall was seemingly too high to scale, too wide to avert, and I am too tired to dig underneath. In that moment when the sun first streaked across my skin, warming, affirming that change had happened; it became apparent that is exactly what my character needs to move forward. Something must transform, she needs to be impacted by abrupt change.
Isn’t just like nature to provide much needed inspiration? It is a blessing that it came at a time when it would be best received.
Merry Cheers!
Ela
This winter has been particularly harsh. Even here, where our “winter” generally only lasts about 3 weeks a year of cold; it’s been a prolonged time of chilled dormancy. Although the brisk air and flooding rains haven’t been pleasant, they have afforded extra time with something very dear – fog. It envelopes, it diffuses, it obscures detail, and it dampens. Watching the first rays of sunlight streak through its density is quite possibly the observation I admire most. It is a hopeful moment.
I have been so busy with projects, preparing for the spring awakening, with work, and writing, family, and communing with beloved friends that it’s abrupt entrance; dismissing the fog, caught me by aback. Dismayed in the first moments walking about. The sky clear. The air cool, lacking crispness. The duskiness rapidly evolved to strong, pure, and vibrant light. The immediate feeling of warmth as the sun peeked above the horizon brought the moment into perspective. Change happens, sometimes immediately; regardless of my, or yours, or anyone’s comfort with what used to be.
Being shocked shakes things loose. I have been struggling with how to insert a turn of events in a story – the wall was seemingly too high to scale, too wide to avert, and I am too tired to dig underneath. In that moment when the sun first streaked across my skin, warming, affirming that change had happened; it became apparent that is exactly what my character needs to move forward. Something must transform, she needs to be impacted by abrupt change.
Isn’t just like nature to provide much needed inspiration? It is a blessing that it came at a time when it would be best received.
Merry Cheers!
Ela