What was a curse in the summer was a blessing yesterday. I don't know if you remember, but in July we came to Riverside for a week long camp and instead of being on our favorite summer site, we were on 212, the site we prefer for spring and summer. 212 sits on a bit of a sandy hill, an oversize anthill really; the camper sits with its long side facing south with no trees to cast any shade. In the summer we cursed its heat-sink sandiness and brazen outlook to the sun. It was hot here, meltingly hot, frazzling hot, sun-burning hot.
We arrived here yesterday on a sunny but slightly cool day. We soon had our sweaters off as we putzed around the site setting up our temporary home. Shoes and socks came off to be replaced with sandals. Passers-by may have looked askance at us, wondering how we could be in t-shirts while they froze in bulky sweaters down the hill. When done with homemaking, we settled into our chairs and lifted our faces to the sun. We felt blessed, and hoped that our good luck will hold out.
Last night was another matter. We had all the curtains tightly closed to shelter us from the cold night. The fireplace flickered. The dogs were bundled in fleece outfits, high necks and front sleeves to keep them warm. I had a sweater on. It was cosy and we felt cocooned from the world. When the dogs and I bustled outside at bedtime the air was crisp and clear. I lifted my face to the sky but instead of one bold sun warming my face, a million tiny suns warmed my soul. The milky way made a trail across the heavens. Stop, ponder, smile.
Today I have a wonderment, which is a type of pleasure. I marvel at the huge colius, lush parsley, and fragrant sage that fills the pot brought in to protect it from the cold night air. It is a miracle that we can take a tiny seed, plant it in the earth, and eventually harvest something good to eat. That brown dirt, which looks so common, can produce a flower of uncommon beauty. The earth nourishes us, our bodies and our souls, even if scooped into a pot.
"I have long thought that anyone who does not regularly -- or ever -- gaze up and see the wonder and glory of a dark night sky filled with countless stars loses a sense of their fundamental connectedness to the universe." ~Brian Greene