and here ~ in the time-between-times
coffee in hand ~ a view of the rain-washed world: ready...
begin!
And so the day starts. {sip of coffee ahhhh!: I do love morning coffee...I do, I do} I do love starting the day to fresh scrubbed blue skies, birds playing tag from tree to tree, and the air crisp/cold. I realize this not-quite-winter, not-quite-spring morning that I like season changes. They are subtle, hard to notice here in CA. But perhaps that is part of what formed our personality as a place. We don't s l o w d o w n for snow clogged walkways and roads. We do not have to take hours donning long under ware, socks, more socks, two shirts, pants lined with flannel, boots, thick chunky coats, scarves ~ all just to go get the mail. Here no need to slow down ... we dash outside, shiver, dash back in for a jacket or coat to throw over pretty much the same thing we would wear any season. So, winter might be a coat, autumn perhaps a jacket ~ but our world, like our wardrobe, doesn't really change.
but...
I notice seasons and I notice when they change. You can feel it first in the air. There is usually a temperature change first thing in the morning: a crispness different than the days before. It makes my eyes focus and my heart race - just a tad. There is a color to the sky in the early hours. I am not an artist and so I can't really tell you what the color change is...but I can see it. Then I love noticing the trees. Now we are slipping from winter to spring. Here and there for about 4 or 5 days there are trees that overnight burst into flower: white and pink. They only last a blink. Then there is the green blush when you drive past the trees denuded of their autumn blaze. . .it is just a blush of green. You might not notice it as you race to work or school ~ I do, I notice and slow my drive and find myself smiling. The first leaves are their own color of green -- soft and gentle : baby green -- not like green for a baby, but baby green, "the first moments" green, young, infant green. It too is not here long -- within a day or two there will be leaves on all the trees and then it will really really BE Spring. (You might hear one or two CA-ians say, "oh, it is a lovely day" ~ ok that is my translation: I say "lovely", hardly anyone else does; most say that nothing word: nice.)
But here -- here in the inbetween, here in the season change -- here there is, I am sure, magic!
The Celts called it "the-time-between-times". Anything might happen then ~ one could travel time to time, or physical world to spiritual world. I wonder if everyone even knows there is a time-between-times? It is that moment between heart beats when real decisions are made, that revelation place where wonder meets 'I see.' In a way, for me, there isn't really time there. It is where I stop for beauty, it is where memories speak and share their insights . . . and their woes. It is where the seasons change. In the same way, in the same place inside of me where I wonder if there are any elves left in Rivendell or Lothlorian (and wonder if I might recognize them) ~ in that place I know.
And so the day starts. {sip of coffee ahhhh!: I do love morning coffee...I do, I do} I do love starting the day to fresh scrubbed blue skies, birds playing tag from tree to tree, and the air crisp/cold. I realize this not-quite-winter, not-quite-spring morning that I like season changes. They are subtle, hard to notice here in CA. But perhaps that is part of what formed our personality as a place. We don't s l o w d o w n for snow clogged walkways and roads. We do not have to take hours donning long under ware, socks, more socks, two shirts, pants lined with flannel, boots, thick chunky coats, scarves ~ all just to go get the mail. Here no need to slow down ... we dash outside, shiver, dash back in for a jacket or coat to throw over pretty much the same thing we would wear any season. So, winter might be a coat, autumn perhaps a jacket ~ but our world, like our wardrobe, doesn't really change.
but...
I notice seasons and I notice when they change. You can feel it first in the air. There is usually a temperature change first thing in the morning: a crispness different than the days before. It makes my eyes focus and my heart race - just a tad. There is a color to the sky in the early hours. I am not an artist and so I can't really tell you what the color change is...but I can see it. Then I love noticing the trees. Now we are slipping from winter to spring. Here and there for about 4 or 5 days there are trees that overnight burst into flower: white and pink. They only last a blink. Then there is the green blush when you drive past the trees denuded of their autumn blaze. . .it is just a blush of green. You might not notice it as you race to work or school ~ I do, I notice and slow my drive and find myself smiling. The first leaves are their own color of green -- soft and gentle : baby green -- not like green for a baby, but baby green, "the first moments" green, young, infant green. It too is not here long -- within a day or two there will be leaves on all the trees and then it will really really BE Spring. (You might hear one or two CA-ians say, "oh, it is a lovely day" ~ ok that is my translation: I say "lovely", hardly anyone else does; most say that nothing word: nice.)
But here -- here in the inbetween, here in the season change -- here there is, I am sure, magic!
The Celts called it "the-time-between-times". Anything might happen then ~ one could travel time to time, or physical world to spiritual world. I wonder if everyone even knows there is a time-between-times? It is that moment between heart beats when real decisions are made, that revelation place where wonder meets 'I see.' In a way, for me, there isn't really time there. It is where I stop for beauty, it is where memories speak and share their insights . . . and their woes. It is where the seasons change. In the same way, in the same place inside of me where I wonder if there are any elves left in Rivendell or Lothlorian (and wonder if I might recognize them) ~ in that place I know.
I read your posts like a mini book. Like a poem that I understand. I think because I know you. :)
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