I went running this afternoon. I remember looking at the sky when I began moving up the mountain and thinking to myself that it looked like it held snow. The sun had that muted look, like someone had pressed a blanket up against the brilliance of it. That’s one of my favorite feelings, you know? I like to turn on the bedroom lamp and make a little tent under the blanket with my arms and knees at awkward angles, the light can be so quiet and soft. The sky felt like that, like a quiet tent made of quilts and pillows. So, there I was down below that gentle quilted sunlight, choking a little bit on the icy wind and slowly warming up as I crossed the mountain, moving fast and testing my legs and lungs. I can’t recall what I was thinking about. I never remember what I think about when I’m running. I know I ponder things, I know I feel emotions, my mind isn’t blank and inoperative for miles and miles but I can’t remember the specifics. I think that’s why it’s so good for me. I had about four or five miles left of my run when it began to snow. Just gentle, aimless snowflakes coming to earth. My oh my, it was beautiful. But for the fast sighing of the wind in the forest, and the groaning of trees, all was quiet. I slowed to a walk while strolling through a particularly beautiful aspen stand and then came to a complete stop. I think God tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Look at this, over here, it will bring you joy.” So I turned around and looked and there was an immaculate and dainty nest, built of grasses, mud and horse hair, dangling from an aspen branch and it did bring me joy. It brought me joy. I snapped the branch and continued running in the snow,wind and quilted sunlight. All down the mountain I ran. In the distance I could see the East bench cloaked in swarms of snow flakes and to the range beyond, more flurries clattering like the crystal stemware in the sink after the feast at Christmastime.
{Because I often wonder what snowflakes sound like when they collide. Do you? I wonder about the sounds made by minute things. I bet snowflakes sound just like the clinking and winking of crystal goblets or the chime of a chandelier…I wonder if dogs can hear the music of snow?}
When I walked in the back door of the house, I took off my shoes, made myself a bit of supper and I found myself wondering about you and what you had seen today and of course, what brought you joy?
Now, as I sit typing, I see a furry, alabaster moth beating itself silly against the South facing window in this room. The house is creaking and settling in for a long cool night. I keep meaning to bundle up for a moment and pull some beets and carrots from the garden before it turns to dark outside. This is such a divine season. This is such a glorious season for curling up with good books and hot tea whilst wearing woolen sweaters. The snow is really coming on now, like a flock of trillions of sheep drifting down from the heavens. Fat like persian cats. As wide as my hands.
I’m utterly enchanted by November. How about you? Have a wonderful weekend all you sweet little chickens.
x
PS I didn’t have a headache today! Not at all. This weekend we’re gutting Isadora the Airstream trailer, I’ll be sure to photograph the drama for you!
