Sunday, November 23, 2014

A day of thanks

The rain is coming down today.  It's a good day to stay inside. I can't decide whether to get busy with a project or simply take it easy.  Right now, I am looking outside the bedroom window sitting on the window seat. This is what I see.
There is really more color to the leaves than the photo shows. This is a glorious time in the Lowcountry.  All the maples and sumac and gum trees are in their glory.  Soon enough the leaves will be gone and only the pines and oaks will provide leaves of dark green.  

The other day I was riding down our road on horseback.  And this is what I saw: 

The fog was there in the early morning across the pecan orchard when I started my ride and then on the way back, it was clearing and revealed incredible points of light shining through the old oaks.  I am indeed fortunate to live where I do. 

According to recent travel magazines the nearby city is ranked number one in the US and number two in the world.  I don't think that is possible, but then I don't live in the city or understand how these ratings are determined.  I suppose the habitats of marshes and maritime forests and beaches and the historic aspects make it so popular.  

Who would have thought though that this place that I call home now would be a top ranked destination?  Thank goodness, our little island is still in low profile. But I wonder how long it will take before the crush of development heads this way.  I hope a long time.  So far drugs haven't been a huge problem out here and crime is low.  I wonder how long that will last.  We are secluded which is either a good thing or not.  And I am not a gun toter which I view as a good thing.  The further I can get away from all of the city's problems with crime and drugs, the happier I am.  

Since I got back from Virginia,  I have felt much at peace.  We managed to get all the plants into the greenhouses before the freeze.  And the actual freeze was minor here with most of the plants surviving, except for a few annuals that were on their last legs anyway.  The egg plant died but the peppers weren't affected by the freeze.  The winter crops are growing.  And we surely did need this heavy rain today.  

At times, I still feel isolated from people. My isolation is an old pattern, no doubt from being around heavy drinking and alcoholism as a child.  I work on my tendency to isolate by going to meetings, heading to the barn to ride, to the gym or to the marina, and getting together with a few friends for dinner or lunch.  I know the old pattern and that what I tell myself is not necessarily the best thing when it comes to dealing with people. 

Wednesday is our wedding anniversary.  We are going to dinner and a movie. For Thanksgiving, it will be the two of us, although we may go visit some friends in the afternoon.  I think that Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays are hard on those who don't have family. But there are many people out there who feel the same.  And some of those have a lot of family but the feeling of apartness is still there.  Filling the empty hole within takes work. 

So I am wishing you a day of thanks for those that you have in your life and good memories of those that aren't with you.  Peace and love.  


  1. Your home is so beautiful and reminds me a great deal of where I live.
    We are lucky. There is peace all around us.

  2. The photo is spiritual, definitely.

    Well, I have a ton of family and I will be dealing with a few drunks at our get together - at my elder sister's house. Sigh. At least when I return home, mine are sober. And my house is peaceful.

  3. Syd, you stay in your haven, isolated and away from the things that beset them separated by 18 feet of space door to door. Not having to to have or desire to want a gun of any kind is a sure sign of being content my friend; content and trusting.

    You and C enjoy Thanksgiving your way, it's the only way to do it right.


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