I promised I'd be back. Let's pretend it's Tuesday. This is the post I was actually going to write:
A writer was discussing on CBC what she believes heaven will be like. She described how every weekend morning, her daughter tiptoes into the bedroom and quietly snuggles beneath the sheets between her and her husband. They spend a few minutes there together, healing in one another's warm embraces, before starting the day. Heaven.
This writer's description awoke within me my own strong sensation of heaven. And it is quite simply this:
As the sun has finally come our way and the days have warmed, I've been reminded once again of what a solar-powered creature I am. But more than that. Of my need to be outside and to feel the sun warming that wonderful spot on the back of my neck as I walk down the laneway or dig in the garden. Life never feels more perfect than the mornings where I hold my mug of tea and stroll with Kaiya through the back gate, down the gravel road, to see what treasures we may find. Or the evenings where I sit at the patio set, glass of wine beside me, enjoying a meal with my family while gazing at our small patch of grass and the gardens we have worked hard to grow.
We all mellow together outside in the sun. The stir-craziness disappears, and the dark squiggle above my head grows faint. Our rhythm changes. Mealtime naturally fades into putter-time, and we all find our places in our little yard, bending down to pull weeds, admire blossoms, or simply build piles of dirt and stones.
August 17th looms large on our calendar, and there is nothing I will miss more than these easy-breezy days of enjoying the quiet calm of nature. So if you call and we don't answer, come to the backyard. There's a good chance you'll find us there.