Last night, the blue moon, our little rock in the sky, shone on me and you. Kerri from Songs of Light reminded me that she sees a different side of the moon. She lives far away in New Zealand. But the light shown in the night for me and for her.
I lit the luminaries. There is so much leftover snow on the ground that they didn't stand out much. The night is bright.
It is so bright outside today that I must move away from the window so I don't suffer from snow blindness. Light is shining on the dust bunnies, the smudges on the kitchen appliances, and light is shining into my heart today. I feel invited into a new year, another January, more of the same - the same good stuff in the lives of the same good people. When Bill and Jeff leave on Monday, a quietness will fill our house. I'll be gone all day and when I come home, I'll turn on the light, fill the teapot, change into soft clothes, eat something mild, check on YOU, and listen to the quiet. I used to wonder why older people like to talk about the weather. I foolishly thought it was because they didn't have anything else to talk about. Now I understand. They talk about the light, the clouds, the moisture, the temperature because they are in awe of the big world. They finally have the time without all the distractions, to LOOK UP. The sun, the moon, the ocean, the mountains, the flowers, the solidity of trees - appear before the eyes of those who stop.