The light is fading. The air is still but with the sounds of rifle shot echoing from our near neighbors' properties. Intermittent reminders that life is fragile. It is the middle of deer season here.
Last night just as we were tucked under our covers reading before sleep beneath our bedroom windows the coyotes passed through the garden, calling to one another in quick conversation. The baby moon had already slipped below the horizon and there was no light to see them by. Walking this afternoon along the meadow paths, stepping into our recent snow we read of their passing, and that of deer, mice, and more in the night.
I feel deep gratitude that our children live near. I am almost embarrassed by the riches we have planned for our meal tomorrow.
On the eve of Thanksgiving I pause to think of each of you as I count my blessings.
May sweet healing energy envelop us all as we pause to give thanks.
Hunters, coyotes, the moon...so much the same here in Vermont. I love how our lives criss cross, Sharon.
ReplyDeleteAnd the thanksgiving...may it go on and on and on.