I know I know I know.
It’s been so long since I wrote anything and put it out there into the ether of the interwebs, but I’ve been a bit busy. The summer overtook my life like a tidal wave and it seems I’ve spent most of my time trying to stand back up while gasping for air. To top it off, we’ve just purchased a house, so I’ve spent the past few weeks pre-moving (if there were such a thing) and now, this is the final push. I fear if I were to write anything lately it would all be metaphors using brown boxes. Metaphors about packing up one’s life and taking the past to the thrift store, and letting go of ragged unused items. I fear I might wax poetically about living a minimalistic life and taking only memories, leaving only fingerprints…wait, is that right?
Either way, I now live amid a jumble of boxes and am anxiously awaiting the moment I can put my old boxes into a new home. I hope I have it in me to be a little ‘under the Tuscan sun’ about this move. You know, introduce myself to the house, go room by room; take my time. I don’t have that kind of patience in me though, so we’ll see.
In the meantime, I am taking a few minutes outside this morning before the chaos awakens and continues to tumble me about once more.
It’s supposed to rain here in my little corner of the world, has been ‘supposed to’ for a few days now. Oh what I’d give for some coolness. This morning is about 70 degrees at 7am. Clouds gather and allow only a glimpse of morning light. The air is still and the humidity high, strange for our dry high desert sentiments. It reminds me of mornings I’ve had in other places in other times of my life. Lake Como Italy at 6am with clouds and humidity that inspired dreamy sighs. Paris when only the bakers and priests were awake. Stone Mountain Georgia when the breeze was just enough to make the whole world smell like red clay. Even California where I grew up, when the ocean air took a deep breath and everything stood still for just one moment; that is what I am reminded of this morning.
I think about all those mornings, their now combined memories and moments encroaching on this one, and realize there was a common factor; stillness. Maybe it was one deep breath or ten, but it was there, the ability to take time and look around and just breathe in the fresh beginning of the day before the excitement, the dull drum, and the speed of it all took over.