Through an open crack in my kitchen window this morning, air inside of the house became infused with the warm and comforting scent of burning wood. It is fall, the mornings have dipped into the 30’s and 40’s, and smoke billows from my neighbors’ chimneys. I love the aliveness that comes from icy morning air hitting my face. It awakens me on many levels.
I took time today, to take a dark, strong, cup of steaming tea outside, and let my senses fill with the sights, smells, and sounds of fall in the mountains. This is why I live here. Yet, there are times that even I am so busy, that all of this wonder threatens to become routine. Each time I catch myself failing to take in the majesty of it all, I stop. This morning it was taking a cup of tea outside and sitting on the deck with my dog. The other night, it was gazing up through the redwood trees at the crystal clear, star-filled night, as I did something as simple as taking out my trash.
My surroundings are my teachers, whose voices trumpet loudly inside my head, refusing to let me dip into complacency. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.