Home of the spirit

I awake to a frozen world this morning. The car windows are frozen over with ice and the snow that melted across the driveway is now a slippery to avoid. The birdseed froze in the pan and the birds were unable to pick out individual portions for breakfast. The hanging feeder is almost empty now but has enough for the frequent visitors arriving one or two at a time.

The sun is come out promising a beautiful day with greater warmth to look forward to. Everything it touches sparkles. My neighbor is home and working hard on his driveway after leaving for three days. It is hard work he says and will take days but he is hoping the sunshine will speed up the process.

There is a hawk sitting on the telephone wires. All the birds are gone from the yard, not wanting to be his prey and they are all making a large racket trying to drive the predator away. He calmly looks around in all directions waiting for movement and listening for a sound he can target in on. Later I learned that he caught and killed one of the Quail and that the neighbor has seen him lurking about in the back forested area frequently. He looks both majestic and lethal.

Down the Hill hears of more of the cars spinning its tires as someone obviously tries to extract it from the snow they have let build up and engulf it. Their efforts, at this time, seemed unsuccessful.

Today I devoted time to catching up on my writing, my correspondence, my thoughts and to continue to be in touch with my spirit as I reach out to others with my inspirations, my words, my photographs, and my art. It has been a fulfilling day.

Tonight the moon is risen, not gold but his light is the snow, accompanied by its sister star. They hang over the same mountain each night. I see the dippers and look for the archer amongst the billions of stars God has created to light the night sky and I breathe in the beauty of Stardust.

This is the first home that has been mine alone, not chosen for children our schools but one that has drawn me in spirit. I knew it was home the minute I set foot in the door and when I looked out at the beauty beyond. I was sold as surely as if my name were inscribed on the woodwork and it was tied with a bow. Each day is a gift a new; each sunrise and sunset, each snowflake and Sunbeam a bountiful blessing of abundance.

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