Almost fog …

Today I love missing beautiful things, because that’s what tells us how much we love them. I love thinking about my family from when I was a child, remembering that my grandparents lived next door, remembering how much fun my mom was, going fishing with my dad, the vast garden that we had, working in the fields and in the barn, the sweet mystery of how anything could be as amazingly wonderful as summer holidays. I love that “missing it” is the exact same feeling I get when I’m sad that I finished a book because it was so good and I wanted it to keep going on forever. I love that I am missing the wonderful “Sounds at the Market Place” that ended a year ago yesterday, or today, depending on whether you go by the date or the day. I love that missing something makes me want to work hard to find the feelings that I got from that thing again. I love that missing someone tells me how much I want them in my life. I love that, while I’m aware how missing someone tells me how much I care, I’m not keen on spending a lot of time missing them so I’m not going looking for ways to be apart from them much.

Today I love that this misty day is perfect for missing someone and contemplating the wonders of the lovable and lovely things and people that I have gathered into my heart and memory. I love how this day is almost foggy with haze, making the world a sweet mystery that is easy enough to discover by heading out into the haze and pushing back the edges of the mystery. I love how those edges fall in behind me as I move, reminding me that the past is beautiful, but needn’t be on my mind or in my thoughts constantly. It is there to return to when I need to remind myself of the love I’ve known, put away carefully in the mist of time gone by.

Today I love clean laundry. I love that I have plans to put up a clothes line here and that one of these days I’m just going to suddenly do it and then “BAM!” … fresh, outdoor smelling clean laundry, and I love that outdoor smell on laundry. I love memories of my grandmother and her wonky old wringer washer, but I am glad I don’t have one of those to deal with.

Today I love having a coffee in my hand while I look out the window and across the mysterious misty day and into the fog of the future and the haze of the past.