Light
The year creeps slowly toward the shortest day and the worst of the weather is yet to set upon us. The sun rises when solopreneurs may still have the luxury of bed and a duvet - although not the luxury, it must be said, of remote control curtains. The sun sets before many of us are yet ready for the dark, not quite believing the sun could sling itself so low all day without dissolving in the river before us..
There is something magical about the chill in the still air and the way the Firth appears like ice. We walk the sand trying to take in The Teachings of Dog - that life in the moment is rich, fleeting and worthwhile. We try to exhale the past and our breath becomes visible as if the weight we have carried colours the air for a moment.
Later, when the pack has disbanded for another day, the last troopers make it home and find a surprise on the mat. Three inches square of christmas card contains a message of apology and a promise of hope. A small foundation of an unexpected bridge begins to glisten in a tired heart.
Later still, Greyhound inspires a walk before sunset and trust travels with the woman and dog... trust that the nightmares may be over, trust that the sun will shine in more than the sky and trust that dreams are achievable. A lead is unhooked and the hound seems not to notice much but then gently veers to sniff at the undergrowth. The woman strides faster, making distance, projecting calm and then turns to look just as the hound raises his head to see her. One word and he seems to smile from nought to forty-five in the beat of a heart.
It is the first time she has seen him run, the first time she has created this space for him and she can't decide which comes first - anxious panic that he may not stop or a little squeal at the power and speed. Too soon, or just soon enough, he puts on the brakes and slows - but he overshoots just a little and then turns and comes to her and the biscuit seems too plain a reward for it all... at least to her, not the dog.
The sun sinks...
... they return to the Den and a magic begins to stir in her soul.
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Tags: hope, sunrise, sunset, winter sun
Posted on December 11, 2009 in Dog Tails, Ponderings.
Knitting Therapy
A really beautiful and poetic blogpost…sounds like you had a magical and inspirational evening
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