It’s the kind of morning that, a few months ago, would have had me saying “man, it’s smoky out there.” This morning I silently celebrate the joy of seeing distant hills through a smoky haze because it’s been impossible to see much of anything for weeks.
Everything’s relative, isn’t it?
I step out on the deck to take a quick photo with my phone and the air smells clean. Clean enough that I think I might sweep the ash from the deck and the patio later and spend some time out there with a book.
That’s after I harvest the garlic (it’s later up here than it is down at my community garden) and tidy up the backyard garden.
That I’m considering either is cause to celebrate after week upon week of staying mostly indoors.
All things pass. Sometimes, in the thick of it, I struggle to remember this. The many cycles of creation remind me again and again.
I don’t know how long we’ll have this clear-ish air, but I know we better get out and enjoy it while we can. That’s my plan.