“If you get up and have a hot shower, you’ve already had a terrific day.”
I forget who said this last week, probably someone on the radio musing about the January blues and imminent come-home-to-roost post-Christmas reality. Overweight, overdrawn, overstimulated. I’d like to think I appreciate the simple things in life, but as I write I’m syncing my new iphone and am taking a break from figuring out how I can share photos via the cloud.
Still, what keeps me going is the chance to sit by the wood stove again with Simon, coffee in hand, as he pokes at the embers. I live for beating back brush where there was once none — what was a clear cut has become a never-ending exercise in “woodlot management.” I feel most at home when I hear the hermit thrush deep in the woods at dusk, or when having a second cup of tea and a maple square with Alan and Myrtle across the road.
Jasper navigates the snow-covered stairs at Walden. “It’s a slide, Dad!”
Someone else said that people look for miracles in a glass of water. They want to see the glass lift off the table. Thing is, the miracle is the glass of water. I’m very conscious this new year that I already have everything I will ever need. So, why the angst?
