Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.
Gray cloud to the left,
Rose and silver to the right;
Fingers of both touch.
The last hour of light is happening earlier each evening. Last night I went out at 8:00. No more waiting until 8:45 or later to wander out to my outdoor perch.
It had been a warm and cloudy day, humid, hot, sticky, fat cumulus and cumulonimbus clouds of various colors and many shades of gray sat thick in the sky. The evening sky retained the clouds, the evening bearing a comfortable temperature with no rain relief as threatened.
Though there was little breeze on me or visibly in the trees around me, the clouds above me were much more active. Upper level gray clouds were moving north. Lower level silver and peach clouds were moving south. The clouds began an interesting zig-zig, blown first one way and then the other in a wild slalom across the sky. I wondered where we created words for air movement. Was it because there are different types and intensities from the mildest breeze to the strongest of winds? And such fascinating names like barber, chinook, diablo, sirocco, sundowner, zephyr, each with local and global meanings. And the intensest of winds: the tornadoes, and cyclones, and typhoons, and hurricanes that cry while they whine and stomp the earth with windy tantrums.
I waited for the first flash of friction to come and the ensuing audio announcement of the clash of air. It didn’t come. I wanted the water to fall, desired fat drops of rain so needed by this earth. There were so many colors of clouds and sky my eyes were dazzled. The gray clouds smeared with soft lines that made me think it was raining up high and the drops were evaporating, not making it this far down to the ground, clouds begetting clouds so to speak. The rain did not come.
In front of my eyes a rainbow blossomed out of one of the orange-rosy clouds and thrust itself upward. The rainbow widened and diffused spreading its colors over a wider and wider space. The half arc reached up and connected with another rosy cloud above it like some cosmic connect-the-dots game. Then as suddenly as the rainbow appeared it effected a gray demise as if the heavenly artist wiped the sky clean and wanted to start over with a grayed slate.
Sometimes when you least expect it magic happens right in front of you. The perfect confluence of water drops and 42 degree angle of the sun et voilà magical dazzling colors appear out of thin and thick air. With all the struggles and challenges in this modern life one magic moment helps reset the too busy mind and calm the soul.
Color Watch – blooming attractions in my neighborhoods this week – sweet white petunias; little purple blossoms on weeds in my yard; the myriad of colors in a neighbor’s yard; hot pink and purple fuchsia still in bloom; creamy orange sherbet gladiolas; and a golden yellow, bee-tended sunflower.
Currently Reading – By Bread Alone (2004, fiction) by Sarah-Kate Lynch; Moody Bitches: The Truth About the Drugs You’re Taking, The Sleep You’re Missing, The Sex You’re Not Having, and What’s Really Making You Crazy (2015, socioendocrinology) by Julie Holland; Shakespeare’s Wife (2009, history) by Germaine Greer. Yes, concurrently.
This week I have been grateful for:
- A few hours of seriously fun face time with my sister and enjoying the luxury of time to talk.
- Finding a new store with pretty clothes.
- Some pretty new work clothes. Filling a bag of clothes for Goodwill.
- A new dress for upcoming events.
- Time outdoors.
- The smell of rain that never touched the earth.
- Barefoot on the earth time.
- Mister Kitty, aka George Murphy, my organic alarm clock.
- Planning for retirement one step at a time instead of letting it creep up on me.
Hoping you have a lovely week.
Namaste. Peace. Blessings.
Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch