It’s a beautiful time here in Uniontown, my home town. The tiny leaves are long gone off the mimosa out back, leaving a fanned skeleton of many trunks, which now catches the yellow maple leaves falling on top of it, giving it a whole ’nuther round of leaf dropping. It’s nice to have second chances at things.
Yesterday, that glorious warm surprise, I picked the last two figs and ate them in the yard. They weren’t quite ripe, but still a treat.
I’m thankful that at Thanksgiving, I am still enjoying my homegrown tomatoes, and an abundance of gourmet greens. Not much longer now, though, I’m afraid.
My ritual reading of The Bear has also begun, but this year with a twist: I’m reading it out loud to Jake, a little bit at a time, every evening. And that’s a good place to begin my list of thanks:
I’m thankful for Jake, who takes care of me like no one else.
For my wonderful children, and that they are OK, today.
For my wonderful family, my foundation and strength.
For my wonderful dogs, constant and faithful companions.
For all the people I’ve known, all the people I thought I knew but didn’t really, and for the people I don’t know anymore, and all the ones I may come to know.
For the deer that feed my family.
For everything that grows, and all the flowers and fruits.
For forgiveness and patience and understanding, without which I would be dead.
For hunting.
For cars and computers and cell phones and all the other technology that makes my life rich and miserable.
For sun and moon and stars and clouds and fire and water and earth and metal.
For books. For poetry. For prayers.
For all the graces given me, undeserved, and for the rich abundance that is my life.
And for every other thing in the world.
Happy Thanksgiving, all! I thank God for you everyday.
With my love and prayers,
No comments:
Post a Comment