Reset

The expectation building up to New Year’s Eve is huge. Between the sparkle, the holiday plans, the cooking and family differences there’s often a gap but with a bit of calm I learn to adjust.

I watched the sun set today from start to finish. I put aside the errands on my to do list. I listened to music and I watched the sun bid farewell the entire time with my back to the sun.

The light on the wall was golden lemon yellow. The ornamental vase on the mantel piece became two tone and rounder than ever, dark and secretive on one side, bright on the other. Its embossed leaves and the bird’s body on its belly came alive for five beautiful minutes. The wooden duck on the corner loved the limelight too. It’s beautifully curved wooden neck was exaggerated, like handwriting on the wall.

The tree meanwhile glistened in the corner desperate for attention but it couldn’t really compete with the beauty of the extravagant sun. It obediently waited.

The whole room was at peace with the light that so wished to be my guest.

But then in minutes it was gone. The writing on the wall vanished. Everything seemed to grow grey. I couldn’t help wish for a bit more sunset. But it was truly gone.

Sitting on the sofa, legs warm in the woolly throw, I felt too comfortable and cosy to move. And then before the dark grew much more, the tree with its lights took up where the sun had left, decorating the room with a soft, warm glow of its own. With an intricate sparkle I love.

I was pleased with myself for sitting, pausing and taking in something so simple and silent and inspiring. I guess I fed my soul and it was grateful.

~

Here’s to quiet moments lovelies, no matter how short they are.

making it happen, by Pipp