I sat out on my patio this morning sipping my tea taking in the sunshine and the traffic going past…not the traffic of cars and trucks but of people; families, moms and dads, children, grandparents, joggers, lovers. I hear bits of their conversation, calling out for their children to wait up, talking about the weather, laughing, loving…glorious.
I moved back to a place very close to where I grew up...my old stomping grounds, the place where I scrambled through blackberry bushes and bull rushes and ran down roads past the homes of my friends to the home where I spent the whole of my childhood, all my teen years, the home where I brought John to meet my parents and where I bring my grandchildren still.
This place, where I have moved is surrounded by old memories… the old willow tree still stands there guarding the place at the edge of the lake where I sat with my friends into the night, talking of secrets and life; a simpler time when all we knew was each other, our homes and our hiding places.
There is an old fir tree that marks the place where my friend lived with his family, the only living thing left of the home that was a neighbour to all the homes that once lined this street; homes belonging to the Jansen’s, Reeve’s, Zomar’s and others. School time friends, I hear their voices still, ringing out into the air of the park reminding me of our adventures in the yards that edged the lake; a playground of exploring while we were younger and a hiding place for secrets, friendships and freedom.
The old fir tree is home to an old clothes line reel, so imbedded into the bark that there will be no turning. The reel has been wrapped around by the tree itself, a bit of the line still hanging, dangling with no length, no longer even wanting to hold the clothes that once hung there… only holding the stories of what happened in the yards that spilled out from there and the children who played under it.
I bought a townhouse that sits on the edge of Mill Lake; I look out every morning to the water...sunshine glistening off it, ducks and geese flocking to it, eagles soaring over it and people walking all around it...glorious.
Last night I was awakened to see the moon…casting a spectacular light that flooded my room and I got up to see more. Imagine the moon, just half of its glory, but as bright and white as it ever has been, ever…brighter…haloed by a moon dog, glowing so large around it as to make it all seem twice the size! And then imagine it again reflected in the stillness of the lake below. Identical twins sharing beauty…I could not take my eyes from it…glorious.
Man, I live in a beautiful place…and how can I sleep at night when God is performing this show, this amazing production on the other side of my window…stars glittering, joy resting, sun rising, peace dancing...home.
I love that.