I open my door; dark, quiet space yawns ahead of me.
Stepping out, I breathe deeply of the cool evening air. It is night.
Time fades as I walk, pausing periodically to look, really look about.
A hint of woodsmoke on the air, our attempt to keep the chill at bay.
The moon shines brightly out in the open, a great spotlight revealing that which prefers shadow.
And I walk on.
Thoughts from the day flit through my mind as I walk, steadily pacing now with no destination and plenty of time.
Pausing is a challenge in this season of my soul.
Thinking of woodsmoke, I realize how pervasive it is. One moment near a fire and the scent lingers on your clothes, your hair, your skin. I realize how easily it is for a good thing, like warmth, to overtake your senses so that you lose track of other, equally important things. How simple we are, really.
Stepping out, I breathe deeply of the cool evening air. It is night.
Time fades as I walk, pausing periodically to look, really look about.
A hint of woodsmoke on the air, our attempt to keep the chill at bay.
The moon shines brightly out in the open, a great spotlight revealing that which prefers shadow.
And I walk on.
Thoughts from the day flit through my mind as I walk, steadily pacing now with no destination and plenty of time.
Pausing is a challenge in this season of my soul.
Thinking of woodsmoke, I realize how pervasive it is. One moment near a fire and the scent lingers on your clothes, your hair, your skin. I realize how easily it is for a good thing, like warmth, to overtake your senses so that you lose track of other, equally important things. How simple we are, really.
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