A New Day

Yesterday was one of those magical New England days. The kind of day where the weather takes on several roles, from delighted child, to moody teen … bored housewife to angry mother. The value of the performances, all worthy of ovation, almost went unnoticed until after the climax. The peak of the show came in the early evening, as I sat on the deck in the mix of sun and shade, talking to my mom on the phone. I noticed the dark, dark sky approaching from the west and could feel a storm tagging along. The breeze picked up and suddenly shifted to wind. The trees leaned into and away from one another as their chatter and dance picked up in volume and pace. I could feel that rain would be next as I moved my seedlings back indoors, still on the phone with my mother. The wind intensified. Drama and energy, dark and heavy, flew all around. The petals of the crabapple flew around like confetti in honor of a celebration I couldn’t quite comprehend. No sooner were my babies inside and my call concluded did the rain come, dark and heavy and hard.

Inside my little hut I prepped dinner for stovetop in lieu of the grill, which was my original intention. We sat and ate. By the time dinner was over the sun was out again, the air still and cool, and the only sign of the storm was drifting east and out of sight.

I marveled at the scent and taste of the air, the crispness of the landscape, and the feel of the stillness on my body as I sat outside in the gleaming rays of the waning sunshine.

All things pass, I felt a voice whisper. No matter how dark, moody, dramatic, dull or powerful … they pass. And the sun always shines on the transformation.

And I wake to make a new day today.

Peace.