These early morning walks have been satisfying. The nights have been brisk, as are the mornings. I think I have solved the mystery of the strange splashing sound; they are muskrats.
So many gifts are given to me on my trek up Lakeside; this morning I was serenaded by a cardinal; the other morning I saw a stately heron standing watch at the edge of the lake; the robins sing to me every morning; the skies are truly gilded with pink. Each walk has a special nugget of beauty that takes my breath away.
I daydream, I pray, I sing, I listen, and breathe thanks as I pass the landmarks. I take note of the lights that come on in the quiet houses. Occasionally an energetic runner passes by with a cheery "Hi, there!" As I round the corner by the boat launch, the fishermen greet me. And finally, the last stretch past the "Woods", I meet the next shift of walkers and runners beginning their morning exercise.
I cool down by strolling in the garden. It's so lovely there right now. The tomatoes, peppers, green beans, squash, and peas are blooming, punctuated by glowing nastursiums and bright calendulars. I pick my salad greens, take a last deep breath of the fresh morning air, and start my day.
These days, I eat breakfast alone, as DB goes into the Y to exercise. I sit on the porch with my cereal, reading Morning Prayer, as the sun brightens up the yard. "Monet Mornings", with the shafts of sun turning my yard and garden into an impressionist painting. Thank you Lord; Amen.
Lots of reminising with friends tonight on their boat and then at the H & H. We talked about hiking trips with the kids. Those days were wonderful, as were the days on the farm in New England. But, there is also a peace that comes with this age. I am comfortable with myself in a way that I never was when I was younger. And this marriage is so much a part of me that I can't imagine a life without it. DB and I may sit in silence for long periods, but it is a companionable silence, full of caring and memories. I wouldn't trade this time in my life for anything.
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