The sun danced through the house today, slipping quietly through the windows of the kitchen door, splashing warm memories of dew drops on the faucet, while sipping on a bottle of Chardonay.
Those angel rays brushed the kitchen cabinets, rendering them a honey brown. Down the narrow hall they slid. They drifted from the skylights, casting shadows on the walls. It was a sunnyside up sort a day, so welcome and warm that I did not mind that the sunbeams accented the cobwebs that have chosen corners from which to hang. The sun has made such infrequent appearances this winter that it is pure joy to see her rays on this January day – especially with the ominous prediction of an Alberta clipper about to descend upon the Great Lakes region.
Our sunny day will be a bittersweet memory come Sunday morning. I think I’ll worry about the snow when it comes and just enjoy the goodwill of sunlight today, sipping something warm, perhaps, and enjoying a dollop or two of lemon curd on an English muffin, while I read Jan Karon’s new book, “Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good”, which I have on seven day loan from the library.
Maybe, just maybe, I’ll take a walk about the Cutoff, with this wonderful little book in hand, a gift from a very dear friend. Perhaps I can tell the Cape Cods and Georgians of the nesting world and determine who has been living in the trees, pondering their return from the south as soon as warmer winds start blowing.
It’s all in the little things, my friend; like angel rays and birds nests, lemon curd and bittersweet.
I Come in the Little Things
. . . I come in the little things, Saith the Lord:
Yea! on the glancing wings
Of eager birds, the softly pattering feet
Of furred and gentle beasts, I come to meet
Your hear and wayward heart. In brown bright eyes
That peep from out the brake, I stand confest.
On every nest
Where feathery Patience is content to brood
And leaves her pleasure for the high emprize
Of motherhood . . .
. . . I come in the little things, Saith the Lord . . .
Evelyn Underhill
Lifeonthecutoff's Blog 