I mentioned, "hey, let's get outside!" and that bigger girl there requested we bring some treats to the 'giving trees' as they call them. Bird seed, nuts..apples, nothing too fancy but big on the love from these two.
I was knee deep in eggnog pancakes when I realized it was one of those crystalline icy mornings.
You know, those super sparkly ones?
The kind that have been on my list to stop and enjoy for years now.
When I made it outside the first thing I heard was the heavy dripping of water from the trees hitting the crusted snow.
The moment had passed.
After the initial "shucks", I realized what an apt metaphor for these fleeting days of pancakes and a table full of hungry bellies...
Winter will surely guarantee more sparkle but, over time, the number of chairs seated around my table will become fewer, my pan will lay idle more often, plates in our cupboard will remain stacked for days and this house will suddenly seem all too quiet.
the seemingly, blah tone of the morning sky got me thinking...
wait, if white is where all the wavelengths of visible light can be seen and black is where all of them are absorbed and none are reflected back...that means that gray is, well, somewhere in the middle, right?
so gray is really a balance of light and well...kind of beautiful. or, maybe even an attempt to draw at least a little light out of the darkness...
...aptly describes that feeling when you've spent a glorious winter day (New Year's Eve to be exact) outside in the sun and cold air watching your community in play. Seeing older kids watching out for and actively taking on the care and fun of smaller ones. Memory and community building at its best and most beautiful. Not to mention the tasty treats and fire provided by thoughtful neighbors.
A moment hasn't been spent wondering if we made the right choice.