Wednesday, December 30, 2009
When I was 7 or 8 I lived up a river road, out in the woods - just past the place where childhood abundance trips over the poverty of loss. On crisp fall mornings, I would wake early before the house was stirring. I would put on my little brown corduroy coat, my puddle boots, and set out into the great big open. Crunch, crunch went my boots on the gravel hill; swish, swish went my swinging corduroy arms through the neighbor's apple orchard; plod, plod went my solid body across the two lane road. Then I would stand on the balls of my feet at the edge of the empty field for an anticipatory minute. Watching the pale sky, I would breathe deep and stare at my breath on it's way out, fogging in front of my nose. Steady now, my determined first step into the tall frost bitten grass of the field...I cannot describe exactly the sound my step makes, it is a most satisfying crackle/crunch/swish/plink/clunk/sigh, it is an explorer's symphony - it is absence and company - it is riot and rest - it is cacophony and hush. I step so slowly for the first half of the field, when I come to the big tree I run my fingers over it's bark and say, "good morning Sally." And then I run as fast as I can to the other side...skidding to a stop at the cliff spilling off into the river. Staring at the still water below all I hear in my ears is the pounding of my heart, as it gradually slows and I breathe in rhythm, I recognize the first sound ever heard. For this tiny moment, all is right with the world, everything is in it's place and I belong completely to this moment. This is the 'Hush'.
While the Hush can be quiet, it is not silent.
As the perfect snow fell unexpectedly last night, the girl squeals, the door creaks, the neighbors slip and slide with laughter... we step out into that Hush. While the kettle whistles, the video games "crash, boom, pow," the girl sings, the cat is mewling, the dishes are clanking, the chaos makes a raucous...everyone smiling and glowing in the Hush.
It was a lovely holiday here in the cottage. Amidst the festivities and the craziness, there were these tiny moments of Hush, where all was right with the world, everything was in it's place, I belonged completely to the moment...and the moment belonged completely to me.
Here is to a beautiful new year!