Friday, December 28, 2012
Little hands joyfully bring me handfuls of sticks and small kindling along with prickly pine cones to help start the morning fire in the stove. My loving husband, so gentle, yet so strong, brings in armloads of wood. A cozy fire will chase away the dampness of this morning. No sunshine today, just winter gray, very much the color of the Shetland wool I am spinning. We light a candle in the window, golden glow against the drab of this winter morning. Mei-Ling asks if I made the candle and thus begins a conversation about the wax made by bees and how I melt it for making candles. We sit before the fire together, watching the smoke from the chimney, through the window, curling upwards and then dashing down to the low branches in the tree when the wind pushes it down. It feels like a perfect moment in time. I decide today that this little visitor needs some warm wool socks for when she visits. The bare floors are cold in winter. Another project for the needles. Breakfast needs to be made. Piping hot bowls of oatmeal will soon fill our bowls and golden honey will sit on top, the honey spoon just meant to be licked by a small girl with a big smile. Outside, at chore time, droplets of rain, hung tight to the clothes line and to the tiny branches of the fruit trees. Seed pods, ready to fall to the wet earth in the winter wind. The cycle of life, perfection. I have never doubted the brilliance of The Creator, or the love He shows us in each wonder of Nature. It is seen at every turn. I am thankful for all this beauty that is in my world. I love this life of mine, so full of moments that fill my heart to overflowing.
It is a silent sort of morning, sitting next to the wood stove in my rocker, watching the birds outside my windo...