Why I Don’t Have Any Dill This Year


I had open all day, while I worked from home, the windows that are protected from the rain. Having the scent of Spring rain and the brightness of my indoor garden helped provide balance to a 14-hour day of editing. Meditation and regular stretching help, too.
Tomorrow I plan to go outside for the clean up phase. With vigor and enthusiasm. I expect that though I’m stiff and sore from too much computer time, hard physical labor will feel good. I’ll get to remind myself of my yoga for gardening tips.
It was just approaching the deep dark of the solstice when I left for places warm and light. Last week, when I got home, just by comparison to the sultriness of southern India, it felt dark. This morning, though, I noticed earlier morning light. When the wake up call sounded, I was deep in a rather wonderful dream in the violet-tinged landscape of the American southwest. As I had an early meeting at another governmental agency that required me to walk 10 blocks further than my usual walk to work, and I did not want to miss my regular morning practice, I had to get up right away.
The light through my second floor skylight seemed softer than it had just a few days earlier. Instead of being absolutely dark, there was enough of a hint of dawn that there was no need to turn on the light just to walk downstairs. I thought perhaps a little of yesterday’s snow might have accumulated. No snow. It was just the first glimmer of the days starting to get longer. When I walked past the Capitol on my way to the meeting, I saw several robin red breasts. With global climate change, many of them now do not fly farther south for the winter.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
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A worthy sacrifice.