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Hygge For Love Of Winter

Hygge (pronounced hue-guh not hoo-gah) is a Danish word used when acknowledging a feeling or moment—whether alone or with friends, at home or out, ordinary or extraordinary—as cosy, charming or special.

From my Danish roots, here comes that word that captures the feeling of warmth in a cold but beautiful clime. Ah yes, to visit there, to sit in front of the fireplace, stockinged feet up on the coffee table, books a tumble, hot chocolate in hand.

Posted by Old Moss Woman’s Secret Garden

This is not cold when you have pleasured in a Winter’s Day, when the warmth of snow encircles, when tiny lights match the diamonds in the sun and moon-lit accumulations of snowflakes. That’s when your breath merges with air to make a whispered music. It’s not cold, when you’re not too old to make angels in the snow, when you can dream of other worlds where snowflakes ring like softened chimes.

That’s when someone’s mother makes the porridge with lemon and vanilla so that it, too, sparkles and sings in front of the red-cheeked children, fresh from sledding or skating, embraced by light worn as snow into the self of home.

That’s when Winter is childhood. When Winter is home.

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Elephants And Us

Posted by BBC One

BBC One·  A herd of elephants marched 12 hours to the house of Lawrence Anthony after he died – the man who saved them. They stayed there silent for two days. 

Exactly one year after his death, to the day, the herd marched to his house again. It is something that science cannot explain.

But I don’t think science should, or needs to explain. Science needs to learn. Elephants grieve, and respect. Elephants know how to pay homage to someone who is deserving, and how to say thank you. We, human kind, need to learn how to be more like animals, like elephants.

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Birthdays

As my birthday is now gone, I can say it was. I’m not fond of saying that it is. I’ve not been interested in birthdays since the milestone days: 18, 21, and 30. After that it has seemed mostly inconsequential, especially to celebrate. Not avoidance, more like a no matter. A shrug of the shoulders.

But today I did see this poem posted, a lovely toast to the days as we mark them gone.

Poem and photo posted by Mauri Fox & Kathy Gallo

I Am Not Old
I am not old…she said
I am rare.
I am the standing ovation
At the end of the play.
I am the retrospective
Of my life as art
I am the hours
Connected like dots
Into good sense
I am the fullness
Of existing.
You think I am waiting to die…
But I am waiting to be found
I am a treasure.
I am a map.
And these wrinkles are
Imprints of my journey
Ask me anything.
~ Samantha Reynolds

And this coat has special significance for me as it’s a coat that reoccurs in my life. It is the coat that was first found on Billy the priest as we were kid-adults together in Michigan. He was quite heavyset then, and the coat looked fabulous on him. (He was not a priest at the time.) One of the first novels I wrote, “Last House” has a character in it who has such a coat. He is a character of some merit and all of the people who read the MS loved him. He is also heavyset and a very proud and kind man. When I think of the coat I can feel it, so warm and wonderful, and furry.

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10,000 Things

From the 10,000 things, as posted by Tao and Zen

Tao & Zen

“Be content with what you have;
rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize there is nothing lacking,
the whole world belongs to you.”

― Lao Tzu

Lao Tzu is credited with writing The Tao, although like many works from that many years ago and transcribed, and from the eastern culture before the birth of Christ, his authorship is disputed. The 10,000 things are in the Tao. And for our records, Tao is pronounced Dao. The Tao is translated as The Way. And this in turn gives new meaning to what the mice say when they say, “The waaaaayyyy things are.” Those mice are very smart fellows, that.

And today was a very fine day indeed.

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Colorado Longing

I know I’ve posted this or something like it, a photo of kissing camels. My backyard. Today once again I’ve been asked how I could leave Colorado for here. I always respond the same—a matter of being able to breathe. Yep, the tale of oxygen. The need for that which seems so simple—in and out. It’s amazing what that lovely oxygen does for the body, the organs, the ability to think. But I loved it there. I loved the place we lived in, the condo, the people, the dogs in the park, playing and running and loving. The running creeks, the backyard mountains. I had no desire to leave, only a need. The need to breathe.

And so it is that life has its way with us. A way that drives us into a vehicle, bags packed, Tula and Squeek in their seats, Willie Nelson singing “On the road again.” The way of it, the way of life. “Them’s the breaks, kid,” someone said. And so it is, how we sometimes put one foot in front of the other and go someplace other than where we belong, where we want to be. The place we still long for, a breath away in our dreams.

Lars Leber‎Our Colorado
Kissing Camels Moonset (Garden of the Gods 11/13/2019)