I hesitate to write too many words now, as much as I would like to. But this is the kind of afternoon where I crave to end it by reading my book on this couch, cosy and warm inside as the cold wind dances down the pavement outside. And see, already I start at the end rather than at the beginning as is proper. Clearly I am in more of a hazy dream-lit mood than in the correct frame of mind for writing coherent thoughts. But pardon me if I spill but a few words out upon the page nevertheless.

I really should be logging a few of my latest reads (as I am now three books behind! knocked out the rest of Narnia this past week), but I can do that later, I suppose. Right now, I am just at peace in the Lord, and I am ever so grateful. It’s been a very busy last few weeks and I have been tired and frazzled, my energy seeping away ever more noticeably as I’ve progressed through these last weeks. But now – even though I’m congested and have a cold! – I finally am at a point where I can rest. And I am ever so grateful to my God for that. This day I was able to worship at church – which of course was a refreshment to my soul. And then following…a little bit of shopping at the store and a little bit of lunch (a great leftover lunch! 2 slices of pizza, a piece of cornbread and a bowl of salad!).

Now this past hour, I decided I couldn’t sit inside any longer. The chill air called my name. So out for a walk I went. Glorious mid-40s temperature. Weather in which it is appropriate for me to wear both my turtleneck and wool coat! And so my feet trod the streets around my neighborhood – up to 11th, over to Studemont, stopped for a quick coffee at Red, then back down to White Oak and over to home. But I fear I bore you. Because obviously the route of my walk signifies nothing to no one but myself!

(interlude for the laundry – I had to step away for a moment to get my clothes in the one operational dryer we have…as all afternoon, I keep missing my chance. Not again!!)

Now where was I? Ah, describing the afternoon and my walk. Well, there is not much to say. I have been finding moments of pure joy lately as I’ve walked around my neighborhood. Why is that? Well, to put it in words is something I fear I can’t do, as I attempt to write random snippets of poetry and they are all turning out to be uniformly terrible. I have an odd soul, I’m afraid. So what brings joy to me is something that I can’t describe to you without the strong possibility of eye rolls and other such reactions. I adore the grey sky on a cold winter day. The kind of grey sky that sits as a blanket over (or underneath!?) the heavens and promises so much more than it reveals. The sky is not uniformly grey, no of course not. That would be quite boring and indeed depressing. But this is the kind of sky that admits no blue whatsoever. It is a well-cloaked sky indeed. But in various spots, there are hints of that radiance of light. The sky pulses with vibrant gradations of colour and hums with glories unimaginable. They are not all seen. But the light is hinted at. Strongly. And so I walk underneath the beautiful blanket of cloud that holds the heavens at bay. The bare-branched trees wave slightly in the breezes. They are bare now, but not always. More glories not seen. But coming soon. Leaves flutter down the street in strong alignment with the wind that courses along in such reckless fashion. And the pavement continues to move backwards underneath my feet. The sky of curious grey, bare branches of wistful trees, and the winds of winter that dance just so. My heart throbs in fierce affection for these things. See now? I told you I was strange. But it is rather nice to be walking underneath the heavens and look to the skies and look to the earth and see such beauty. It is quite pleasing to feel the cool touch of winter upon my cheeks and pull my coat a little closer. It is in moments like these that my mind is agape that I should feel in concert with the heavens and with the earth and with the seas and with the stars – in worship of the One who made us all. A leaf slowly flutters to the grass, for a moment hanging weightlessly in the wind. The sky darkens with the coming of the night. The star song approaches. It is moments like these that my soul sings.