The dark, cold, windy days of November and December are hard to love. I crave the light, and these days that keep getting shorter and shorter are a true test of my resolve to live in the moment. I count the days until the winter solstice, when – hallelujah! – the light will start its blessed return to the northern hemisphere. Instead of “being here now” I retreat in my mind to a rock ledge in a red rock canyon, listening to the flute-like cascading song of a canyon wren while I sip my morning coffee and plan the day’s excursion. Instead of gray and brown and white, I’m surrounded by red and green and blue, and the rising sun is warm on my face. My desert retreats are real places, too…places I’m planning to return to, just as soon as I can:
OR… I’m sipping an evening bourbon high in a mountain meadow on a warm summer evening…just sitting, and watching.
Sigh. No, not sigh. It’s all good, and this little exercise has helped. Now I’ll go enjoy the day.