thoughts
I feel ... sleepy. Content. Distracted. By what? No, distracted isn't what I feel. I just don't know what to do this afternoon. Daylight is fleeting and by the time it's 3 pm I feel it's time to wrap things up and call it a day. The sun comes up just before 10 am. It's ten minutes after three as I type this and the sun set two minutes ago. Thankfully the light arrives long before the sun appears and lingers some time after it sets much like a dear friend who comes before the party to help you set up and stays awhile afterward to drink the last of the coffee and help clean up the mess.I see ... grey upon grey upon grey. And then a twinkle! The lights o
f my wee Christmas tree reflecting onto the layers of snow and heavy sky. This year I decided against putting up my large tree. My heart wasn't in it. I knew Mark and I were leaving to see family this season and so I thought a wee tree should do it. I've been surprised, though, how I've missed the large one. The little one is sweet - blobbed with Christmas mandarins and cotton batting snowballs. But I miss the quiet of a winter evening, when the outside is blue and the longer I stare up at the tree the more the lights blur into long white toothpicks and the ornaments fuzz into each other. As I look I'm thinking everything at once and yet nothing at all. The weight of my thoughts are suspended - still pressing yet lunar and light. Hard to articulate. All that to say that when I look at my little tree I just think awww, aren't you adorable. Nice but not the same, not as good. I don't regret not putting the larger tree out though. We will pack up the car in a few days and I'll be thankful I didn't have to move the bookcase and switch the sofa and chair around for the sake of a large tree with whom I won't be able to have quality tête-à-tête. Besides Mark's mom will have her freshly cut tree sitting all friendly-like on the worn floorboards of their farmhouse when we arrive. The kettle will be percolating on the back burner, wood in the fireplace, cider and snow, calm and bright.*
4 Comments:
This has nothing at all to do with your lovely post. And it WAS lovely. I must say that I simply loved all the quotes you have on your page. And I loved that there in the middle of such poignant quotes, was a Jack Handy quote that made me laugh so hard that one of my children demanded an explanation as to my seemingly senseless outburst!
I have to echo exactly what Sonya said and say I love all those gorgeous, wonderful quotes you've got in your sidebar. Love the Dickens one. I should play around with my sidebars a bit too, spice things up a bit. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I am so glad you and Mark are going to spend time with family over Christmas, because that's what it's all about. And again - there's that incredible writer in you! "the lights blur into long white toothpicks" YES! I often find myself saying "yes" loudly in my head when I read your posts, you always describe things so beautifully.
x
This post was like drinking a mug of steaming cocoa. Or like the visit one might have had with you while drinking the last of the coffee and helping you clean up the mess.
I'm not holding out much hope of it, but it would be so nice to cross paths in the next few weeks. Happy holidays, you.
would you take some pics of the farmhouse when you're there? sounds warm and cosy.
bloomize
any questions?
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