| Friday, January 4, 2019 | | New Year Gifts | My first gift of the New Year was our recently acquired rescue kitty Barney waking me up extra early, and then insisting I get up and feed him, not merely scratch his chin and his ears. Now that might not seem a good gift, especially since Pete and I did stay up to watch the New Year’s ball drop on TV, but hang with me here.
Once kitty was fed and I’d blinked myself awake, I realized that the forecasted rain wasn’t yet falling and though the sky was almost overcast, that “almost” gave rifts and breaks for the chance of some sunlight. I got dressed in a quiet hurry and left the house four minutes after official sunrise, reaching the beach in plenty of time to watch the light play peekaboo with the sky and create a month’s worth of looks in one happy morning.
A couple pods of dolphin were swimming and jumping; a few lines of pelicans flew past. I walked and sang and photographed and reaffirmed all I know to be true for me, that a life of impact and service is the best life. Good thoughts for a new year.
We had a warmer than usual end of the year, although a nasty cold bug kept me indoors and abed for the last week of it. New Year’s day was my first chance to really breathe some salt air in about ten days, though I had managed to get out long enough to visit with out of town family right before they left the area. Right before the holidays I made a quick day-trek off island, on a particularly foggy morning (we had a lot of those with the warmer temperatures in December), stopping to photograph along Currituck Sound and in Waterlily. Fog was prevalent several days in Duck, too and I drove up to Whalehead one foggy morning to experience some different ambience there. Friends and perhaps regular readers should know by now, I love fog. I love the simplicity it brings. We talk about being in a fog as a bad thing; I like the way fog clarifies my perspective by paradoxically eliminating distractions, and emphasizing what is most prominent.
Closer to home, we’ve seen over the past years deer in our neighborhood and even at the edge of our property. This year, on the afternoon Pete and I were setting out our lighted deer Christmas displays in the yard, a little group of three does and a Piebald fawn were grazing right across the street! That was a little Christmas gift delivered early.
Our Christmas miracle this year came in the form of Barney’s surviving a genuine health crisis in the middle of December, rebounding overnight thanks to the action of our mobile vet (and our prayers, I am sure). I knew he was an older kitty when I brought him home, but I sure wasn’t ready to let him go after only a few weeks, so I am grateful he had more lives left to live with us. And that brings me back around to my first gift of the New Year, that beach walk near dawn, made even more precious since Barney was the one that arranged it. I hope you never get tired of me writing about gratitude. Yes, on any given day I can find plenty to grumble about if I so choose. I choose otherwise. I choose to find plenty to smile about. I hope these images below help you choose to smile, too.
|
| | 
click for larger image | I never tire of the view from our part of the Duck boardwalk, especially if there are birds in our little cove. |
| | | | 
click for larger image | The sun's appearance between the clouds, and subsequent disappearance, made for spectacular light shows that lasted more than two hours. |
| 
click for larger image | Next, after the sterling silver faded, beachgoers were treated to this increasing dazzling display of sun rays to the south. |
| 
click for larger image | Every time I thought to leave the beach, the light had other ideas, drawing me to linger. |
| 
click for larger image | Meet Kitty Barney! This is my usual morning view. If this doesn't get me up and at-em, then bumping the blinds with his head will do it! |
|
posted by eturek at 8:13 PM |
Comments [1] |
|
|