I love the moment when I first see the dawn through the dome. The sky is deep blue instead of black, the top of the big balsam is dark against the sky. Inside, the light takes on a dusty, sleepy look. Soon I can snuff the candle and walk in the light, but not yet. It’s still my time
Monday, February 27, 2012
Under the Night Wind
The hour between four and five is generally my favorite. Either I’m awake in the darkness, reading and writing, drinking tea and watching the stove, or I’m asleep. Even if she’s been awake all night, Petka rarely wakes to fuss right before dawn. This morning she sleep in the bed beside my husband, her little face mimicing his, while I sat by the stove and listened to the wild night wind beat the trees that surround us. We had a snowstorm on Friday that dumped a heavy load of wet, slick snow on us, just as everything was melting away. We spent Saturday digging out, and Sunday replenishing our woodpile and tapping our maples. Today I hope to go back to my slow weekday routine, it is a penetential day in our fasting schedule, and trying to plan dinner without oil is difficult. I generally just make beans, either white bean stew or beans and rice, but I may make an altered minestrone. Lenten fasting always manages to shake me out of any ruts I’ve fallen into, the discipline of fasting requires I begin again to eat mindfully. I’ve found, this year that it also pulls me into a mindful living, a rhythm of the day that I’ve been trying to build for months.