There’s Always Something

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight.

Mary Oliver

I try to remain present and mindful so those sweet somethings  are foremost in my mind bringing me to a place where gratitude and worship are more prominent than anything else but, truthfully, I could write a different verse than this snippet of Ms. Oliver’s poem, Mindful, some days.

Every day I see or hear something that more or less breaks my heart.

I placed myself on a strict diet, no longer consuming most mainstream media, but checking in with trusted sources every morning and, without fail, am grieved by how far we continue to fall. Why am I surprised? Maybe I should stop checking. I will if it starts to become too much. I’ve been in that dark place before.

Meanwhile, today I’m delighted by the sunshine. The cool, crisp temperature that’s driven Gerry outside to put outdoor things like hoses and the birdbath away for the season. We thought we’d be in Saskatchewan by now, unpacking and settling in, but we’re not. So I look for delights close to home here in B.C. where we remain for a little while longer.

The hills across the valley. Of course.

The antics of two Yorkies.

Long shadows.

Wind blowing. Leaves dancing. Branches swaying.

Pots of fall mums holding on a little longer.

Realizing that we’re turning the clocks back this weekend and gratitude knowing we will do this no longer once we get to Saskatchewan.

The dark comfort of solitary early mornings in the den.

Good books.

Mugs of hot tea.

Cozy socks.

There’s always something that delights. Even now.