The morning is chilly, not cold, just chilly. The sun is out, but the sky does have a few clouds. I watched a spawn of Satan try to eat seeds from the feeders. It went from the long feeders to the suet feeders. My favorite was watching him on the roof of a suet feeder. He had trouble balancing and the feeder swayed from to side then he jumped off. He finally found one, but he had to eat upside down though he didn’t seem hindered. The feeder is empty. I’ll put in new seeds, but I’ll sprinkle them with cayenne.
Yesterday I was walking into my den when I realized I was in my favorite place at the perfect moment in time. The light was on, and it spread warmth throughout the room. The dog was stretched on the couch, and I could hear him deep breathing. I felt contented, and I smiled at my good fortune.
Life is really a quilt of moments sewn together without any thought to design, color or shape. The whiff of a familiar smell or the shape of a hand or the color of a shirt brings back a moment and connects us with an experience, never forgotten but seldom recalled. We hear a few notes from a long ago song, and, with a whoosh, the rest of the experience comes roaring into our memories and floods us with all the people and places forever connected to that song, memories we had shelved. The smell of a pie transports me to a small kitchen at 16 Washington Ave and the baking mitt on my mother’s hand. All of a sudden I’m remembering Thanksgiving and Christmas and cinnamon and sugar cookies, all triggered by the memory of my mother wearing that mitt and pulling a shelf from the oven.
One afternoon, walking home from school, I got so soaking wet even my shoes bubbled. When I got in the door, I shed the wet wear, went upstairs, got cozy and jumped into bed, book in hand. I nestled under the covers, turned on the bed lamp and began to read. As I was lying there, I felt warm and protected. Yesterday, it was the memory of that so long ago moment which gave me cause to smile.
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