Sometimes, in the middle of winter, God brings the sun out for just a bit to remind us of what’s behind all the rain and cold and wet and gray and all that other stuff that drives us inside only to look back outside through the windows and wish for spring.
Walking down to the paper-box at the end of the street with my single dog companion, I reminded myself that ‘today is a new day’ and to keep looking around.
In that lightening gray before dawn, I always am amused by Wheaton’s lighter-colored feet, which appear on the ground beneath him, move a bit, then disappear; as if he’s floating above the ground, his motion powered by this centipede somewhere beneath. It’s a trick of vision, at that border between night and day vision where lighter things are visible, but darker things are undiscernible.
Coming back from the paper-box, with today’s copy of The Daily Obvious stuffed in my coat pocket, dawn swirls behind the mountain to the East. The cold continued to roll off the mountains, bringing the temperature below freezing just long enough to coat anything metal in a frosting of silver. The dawn continued to lighten the East, bringing the trees on the mountain into higher relief. Over in the ravine to my left, the clouds were gathering their arms about themselves and easing downward in altitude. The Ridge was beginning to peek through their lowering tops.
After several stops for sniffer-time and to let Wheaton ‘just be a dog’ for a few minutes, the house seemed warm, inviting, and enveloping in the love with which it was built; once the door was closed.
I’m always thankful that we have the gift of living in this house, that we have each other to lean upon. For it is that trust in each other that we can count on as we go through our lives’ adventures; no matter how well we perform nor how badly we fail, we can count on each other – we are each there for the other. That is one of the things about this house: it reminds us that even if we don’t understand the motives of the other, that we are together – together.
And this morning was one of those mornings that makes the hardships of our location all worth while. I was getting my shoes on, in preparation to leave for work, and suddenly all the clouds dropped away – leaving the Sun shining straight down the river ravine. It only does that for a few days in the late Winter and late Fall each year.
I grabbed what I had handy and made a few photos of this glorious dawn this morning. You have to act quickly because in five minutes (and often a lot less) it will change.
Feel free to click on this one and enlarge it. It’s worth the wait.
This is why we live here
Not for just glorious moments like these
But for the life we share
Facing all Life together;
Through Adversity and Joy
Yet we hold hands
And remain committed to each other.
This is why I go outside at night to read;
To honor God for the gifts he has given
In this location, this house,
And my wife
Who is the most precious of jewels.