Up early on a chilly morning

Moonbright outside, day turned inside out. The trees are trying to scare one another with long Nosferatu branch shadows clawing up the hill. It's shivery cold, 10 below at least and getting lower this weekend, possibly down to 30 below. We'll have to pay special care to our dear geese and turkeys. Conditions may lead us to make our garage a manger for a night or two. They're such sweet birds. I can usually con a honk or two from the geese when I drive up, even after dark, but last night, nothing. I had to go up with Richard to make sure they were alright. We took some lettuce and dried corn and shown our flashlights on the ground so they could see. They're pretty much nightblinded. After a momentary spook when we walked into their home, they relaxed into a nice chomp.

Just back from a week in the stir and bustle of the city where I was surrounded by purposeful people taking purposeful strides toward some thing or some place. It's by turns intimidating and exhilarating, the city, and always takes me a day to get back into the dance step of its pace. And when I do, oh! what a magnificent city it is. Like coming back to an old friend. Walking down its streets in the morning, a cup of hot coffee in my hands, a nice stroll, finding my own rhythm within its lead, I feel this warm intimacy with it, a partnership, as if we're visiting with one another, catching up, wishing each other well.

Now back to the country everything feels a bit small by comparison. The desk I'm sitting at feels as if it shrunk while I was gone, too small for my thoughts and feelings and ideas. The trudge of the second hand of the clock on my desk shelf sounds positively Sysiphean. But I know this is reverse acclimating. Don't be too quick to judge, Daniel. This too shall pass. Oh my gosh, it's light outside! The tree branches have lost all their spook. They're very yoga pose at the moment, having their own version of salute to the sun. Town and country, we've set up a rich balancing act. A marvelous juggle and challenge to take the richness in both and blend it into a new recipe. What an opportunity. A manifest destiny.

And with the rising of the sun there arises new ideas: What new thing can I create today? What new project can I dream into being? What fun and play can I produce? How can I plant a little laughter about? How can I show life how much I appreciate it?

I can hear Richard laughing downstairs in the kitchen. He's streaming "Gosford Park" on his laptop and it sounds as if he's lapping. A fine contented sound. My husband. Nice to begin a day with a smile and a laugh.

And coffee and a warm wood fire aren't so bad either.

Keep warm yourself today and may wonderful new ideas come to LIFE for you as well!