Last night it was cold for South Florida standards. When I went out to walk I could blow my breath out through my mouth and see steam. I stopped at several street lights just to do that–all these years later, I’m still tropical enough to marvel at that. It was so cold that the only music that seemed appropriate was Swedish Christmas music. I have linked to one of the carols I most love: “Nu Tändas Tusen Juleljus:–now are lit a thousand Christmas lights.
It was especially apropos because I strayed from my usual path to walk by a house that is simply magical to me.
After church today, we decorated the sanctuary, had soup together, got another glimpse of Christmas. Then, I went to see María, loaded down with oatmeal, dried apples and glitter. Together we prepared the reindeer food she’ll sprinkle outside of her house at BARC and huddled around my iPhone to hear some more Swedish and Mexican Christmas music together. It was a sweet, sweet time together.
I have been doing well, it seems to me. Plowing through the work, still behind but catching up. There are moments of real joy. Of gratitude. It’s just that every now and then, and this afternoon was another one of those moments, I hear a crack, and I look down to see that I’ve walked out on very thin ice; the shore seems so distant. I head back, slowly, carefully, with the ice creaking and groaning under me.