November Twenty-eighth; Autumn Morning on the Dirt Road

 Today’s prompt is what small thing happened today, since it is early in the day here, I’ll probably save that for the footnotes blog. Because right now the little thing I am thankful for is my coffee.

 Mornings are a special time for me. The quiet time with my coffee allowing me to move gently into the day. Being officially retired, and being here for my folks, there is no need to be rudely awakened by an alarm at some unreal hour and drag my still sleep groggy brain out of a warm bed. There is no gathering of lunch and snacks and that cup of coffee to carry with me to that job that I don’t, but yet still do miss.

I can sit here, or outside and simply enjoy. After I speak with mom. Sometime between 8:30 and 9:00 every morning she calls for the first time. The conversations usually last around thirty minutes on average and then quiet reigns again. At her age, she forgets what she has and hasn’t told me. I don’t remind her, I let her share as many times as she wishes. She needs to talk and I am gladly hear to listen.

Afterwards, I can then sit and enjoy my coffee while contemplating the deep thoughts that comes from quiet moments alone.

 Like why do the woods I love behind the house, on this morning with grey, overcast sky, remind me of the woods in the Wizard of Oz? Do I dare worry about flying monkeys? Do I instead, consider dressing for the season and with camera in hand go exploring? Is there the possibility of a cowardly lion waiting behind a strand of big Oaks, or a tin man rusted in place waiting to be rescued?

 The cynic would say there are no yellow brick roads that lead to wizards capable of granting amazing gifts and answering dreams. The realist would respond with, true, but he did bring each to the understanding that what they desired, they already possessed. Dreams and wishes are as close as our own backyard and what we hold within our heart and grasp. If you dare to open your eyes and understanding. 

My yard around the house is ankle deep in fallen leaves. My parent’s yard is just as bad. We do love those big Oak trees that bring so much shade in the summer, a glorious display in Autumn, but at the cost of a deep leaf coating as the year draws to its end.

While helping my son try to clear a path through the leaves at my parent’s home, I told my son, if only we had a dollar for every leaf we have raked up. Looking at my yard currently, if that dollar wish were to be granted, I would never have another financial worry. Yet as one who has never had an excess of money, I wonder how I would react to a sudden windfall/ leaf fall? of cash. Would I act responsibly as I hope, or toss caution to the winds and blow through it recklessly? If I were cautious, there would be no fears, concerns or need to seek part time employment. I could actually rest and enjoy this time. But leaves are not dollars or pennies and worries can be as deep as the fallen leaves when answers are few. 

As I sit here, watching the sun trying to break through the cloud cover, I brings to mind the frustrations of last evening. How I look at my accomplishments and feel pretty good about it, then see others doing what appears to be better and all good feelings vanish like a blown out match. When even as consciously you know better, still the little pain in the backside voice whispering, you failed again drags the spirit down. No, to have failed would mean I have nothing to give, I have a small pile of toys ready for the kids. This is not a competition, this is a drive to gather and all who bring gifts for the kids are a success. It is the kids who will get gifts this year, who are the winners.

But the insecurities that have been life long companions are difficult to distance from for very long. When you try so hard for so long do do well, to help, to encourage, to give, and you feel as if what you have done, isn’t enough. Like the sun breaking through the clouds, you have to remind yourself that even in the dark moments, the moments of fog and clouds, you are good enough, strong enough, and what you bring is important. 

There are also those moments when you face some home truths about yourself. Even though you face those moments of loneliness and wish for companionship, what you wish for, are moments. Times of conversation, maybe a shared meal or a walk, or a drive to some not so distant destination. But then, each go on their way and you go back to your spot by the window contemplating how good it is to be able to do as you wish, when you wish with whom you wish. Home truths, often as difficult to face as the insecurity demons.

Early morning thoughts, fueled by coffee and quiet times.When even as the pandemic rages and the world seems to have gone mad, you realize how deeply you are blessed.

Foggy mornings, where mystery abounds and waits behind each tree.

About rebecca s revels

A writer, a photographer, a cancer survivor. An adventurer of the mild kind, a lover of the simple pleasures such as long walks and chocolate. A Christian unashamed of my faith and a friend who is dependable and will encourage readily. Author of three self published books with more waiting to find their way to paper. An advocate of good things, a fighter against wrongs.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.