Yesterday, the forecast was for epic rainfall—and we got a snowstorm
instead. An unexpected snowfall at our place often brings concern, and this
one, so close to Christmas, was no exception. My anxiety mounted as first the
Internet went out, then the power. As the inches accumulated, a cottonwood tree
bent sideways over our narrow private lane, blocking the roadway. I not only had
to bite the bullet and cancel a needed trip to town, but fret about the
soon-to-arrive Northeaster.
Then last night, after the power was restored, I watched an especially
tender and heartrending episode of “This Is Us,” a moment when a man gently
held his dying father’s face between his hands. The older man was frightened of what was to come, but his son just held him, telling him to breathe.
Wrapped in an afghan, the
Christmas tree lights glowing nearby, I was reminded of how small my afternoon’s
worries were. Whether you’re focusing on everyday troubles, or your heart is
breaking, you can take a moment and simply breathe.
Berryridge snowfall on the grape arbor |
In that pause, you might notice small wonders. They say the devil's in the details, but perhaps it's the divine that's in the details—like the slanting winter sun
through the trees, the kindness in your neighbor’s face, the gleam of a meteor shooting through the midnight sky. The
Irish in antiquity were so attuned to wonders that they built a tomb,
Newgrange, with an extraordinary design: sunlight can penetrate into a special passage
and illuminate an inner chamber only at the time of the winter solstice.
If you like tender father-son stories, you'll find my free short story, The Secret Well, at www.susancolleenbrowne.com...and here's wishing you all the best for 2018!
How lovely...
ReplyDeleteyet, Seventh-Heaven's muuuch moe.
Wanna?
Gonna?
Lemme!