Vespers in gloaming light

Spring in winter

I am writing this to you from a hotel balcony.

Inside, John is showering and the room is warm with steam. The air humming with the sound of water and his blue tooth speaker turned all the way up. Too loud for me, I’m afraid. Where he craves noise and music, I pine for silence and stillness. One of the many differences between us.

Out here, it is chilly as the sun begins to rise higher in the sky. The frost is burning off the grass and in the distance a white house glows beyond the layer of trees like a candle on a birthday cake. I have known these trees my whole life. I am seeing them this morning from a different view as John and I have been having a bit of a staycation.

It is quiet out here and I feel peaceful writing to you in my sweatpants and sweatshirt. My exhales creating tiny puffs of air in front of me as though I were a tiny dragon.

Last night as we were falling asleep, John propped his pillow up just so I could curl into his arm. He rubbed my head until I felt my eyes grow heavy whispering things to me that were barely audible though extremely memorable. It was a memory to cherish, an innocent moment of two people who love one other and were extremely tired. Life is built on these things. As small as a glass bead catching the light but strung together; they create a life worth having.

Being with John changes my sleep schedule. He’s an early riser and early to bed. I find myself starting my days at 6 or 7 instead of 8 or 9 and am greeted with his friendly face searching for coffee while I groggily try to remember where I am. This morning was no different and it makes the corners of my mouth turn up when I think of it.

The heart is a strange place, isn’t it? Where once it was bare, cold, even perhaps wounded and aching for care; someone can come along and bring to life a whole garden. I think about where I was a year ago and I can’t believe I am so different now, that my life is so different now and that there is so much to be grateful for.

I say that word a lot, but it’s because I am trying to reach for it more and more. There is a season to everything, perhaps this is now the season for me to take stock and say thank you.

No matter how bare the trees are, spring is always around the corner and if you are lucky; always in you anyway.

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