Winter is finally here in coastal New Hampshire. The branches of the trees in our backyard droop slightly from the weight of the heavy, wet snow. Our vegetable garden is covered in the blanket I’ve come to expect this time of year.
It’s beautiful outside.
I am thankful it’s warm and cozy inside, with my cat sleeping soundly against my leg. The heat softly clicks and makes little bumpy noises as it works its way to no higher than 68 degrees. The thermostat is in a room that isn’t used frequently, so it’s decidedly cooler in the main part of the house. I like it this way. I cherish being able to put on a sweater or sweatshirt, knowing that in about six months we’ll have such hot days I’ll be tempted to walk through the sprinklers on my neighbors’ lawns.
Do I wish for those summer months? No. I don’t live in the past summer’s world of what was nor the future summers of what will be. I live in today. In now. I don’t wish today away, and I certainly do not wish to be stuck in the past.
Now, I realize some people take comfort in the past and I can respect that. It’s just not me. I don’t think it ever was my style, but I’ll be darned if I could tell you why.
Some might say that the past two years living in the age of covid, with post-covid fatigue and that darned brain fog, or helping my husband as he faced and healed from open heart surgery a year ago caused me to live in the present.
They certainly helped bring me to this moment, but so did so many other things I’ve experienced in my life.
So, here I sit, turning letters into words and words into coherent and cohesive sentences that amuse me (and hopefully, you, too), looking out my windows at the beauty of winter that has graced my life, yet again.
Here’s to many more winters (and summers, and mud seasons, and springs, and autumns)!
In-the-moment-Llama
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