Tuesday, November 16, 2010

It's a Beautiful Life


All day it rained, the drizzly kind that makes a body feel cold even if the temperature isn't. I never took my scarf off, even in the office. But somewhere during my trek through WalMart to fill a charity Thanksgiving basket, the sun appeared in a dramatic fashion.

On the way home, the newly resurgent sun and equally resistant clouds treated us to a half hour light and shadow show that made us feel glad to be alive and see it. Entire landscapes appeared in the sky, sculpted of battling clouds and light. At one moment, it seemed that a circular portal had opened in the churning gray, like those in the movies right before the aliens appear or time is traveled.

The sudden shift in the weather, complete with sky show, made this evening feel special.
It suddenly seemed appropriate to be abandoned. We detoured to buy ice cream that I had deemed over priced just a day or two ago. Once home, the regular comfy clothes wouldn't do. I swaddled myself in a long, soft, cowl neck sweater. Dave donned his dad's old high school sweater over his turtleneck. Oh, yes. Different was the order of the night.

The brief clearing had ended by the time our dinner was ready. The wind had kicked up in the way that makes you check online for tornado or severe storm warnings. Finding nothing worse than a wind advisory, we ate our comforting pasta carbonara and romaine-parmesan salad and vanilla ice cream with sauteed apples while it howled and scooted the deck furniture, feeling cozy and blessed. I didn't do the dishes, nor even want to hear the dishwasher run. There's always tomorrow, when I'm home during the day. Tonight is different indeed.

But oh so good. We have simple delicious food and shelter and candlelight while rain blows. We are mellowed by good wine and the joy of living, while outside it's cold and damp. Tony Bennett is singing. The only lights are a hand thrown oil candle and a lantern.
I'm even co-existing peacefully with David's pipe indoors. There doesn't seem anything more important to do but Be. Here and now.

If the storm to end all my time came tonight, this evening would be a good way to leave life, going out with good food, love, and a belly full of happiness.

Blow, baby, blow. I'm as free as your wild wind for a few moments.

That, and I have a basement.