Saturday, September 10, 2011

A BIT OF SUNLIGHT

Even after the dark-purple berries have fallen off or been eaten by birds, sunlight shining through the empty pinkish-purple raceme of a pokeweed stalk is still lovely. 

Isn't it amazing how even a small amount of sunlight can improve our attitude? 

That was certainly the case with me yesterday when, after a week's worth of dark, dismal, dank, dreary, drizzly and depressing days, the sun came shining through the streamside sycamores, bouncing off their white trunks, sparkling in the riffles, filling the pool near the cottage with golden light. In no time at all my spirits soared.

Moon-the-Dog and I quickly headed outside. Ruby-throated hummingbirds were zooming everywhere, squeaking like mice as they chased and defended their presumed feeder rights. Carolina wrens, as brightly energized as if you'd plugged them into a 220 line, were singing at the top of their lungs from midst of the cedar thickets. Even the zinnias alongside the walk—beaten flat by last weekend's storm—seemed to be doing their best to rise toward the vertical.     

I don't even care that today's weather forecast calls for clouds and afternoon showers. I've had my needed sunlight fix. The glass is half full and I'm good to go from now until the equinox. 
——————— 

10 comments:

Bonnie said...

Isn't it wonderful how the tiniest bit of beauty, truth, goodness, light can nourish a soul, and just the memory of it can sustain us through difficult times? We need to hold on to that realization, so beautifully articulated in this post - especially this weekend.

Love the photograph! Thanks Grizz.

Gail said...

Hi Grizz - oh yes!! your words and images are delightful, life-giving and naturally uplifting. Hallelujah. You paint a beautiful picture with your writing - a picture I can immerse myself in like refreshing clear sun lit waters. Amen
Love to you
Gail
peace.....

Grizz………… said...

Bonnie…

Yes, indeed. We are emotionally fragile creatures, though most of us, I think, desirous of counting our days worthwhile and time positively spent. It doesn't take much, on occasion, to get us off track…but the good news is, when we raise our vision from the shadows and look around with an open heart, even less to set us back renewed and uplifted.

The Weaver of Grass said...

I knew all would be right with your world come the sunlight Grizz.

George said...

Lovely photo, Grizz, and I completely sympathize with those who experience depression after many gray, dark, and rainy days. I sometimes think that, instinctively, we humans feel that we should be walking toward the light, which is a good thing. By the same token, however, we find ourselves disoriented when the light is taken away for prolonged periods of time. Just as light is required for most plant growth, it seems essential to our own. "Let the sunshine in . . . "

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

Thank you. I had a good day today—lots of running around and worn out when we finally got in…but fun.

Be well…

Grizz………… said...

Weaver…

You're right—a good sun day put my house back in order.

Grizz………… said...

George…

I don't know why the weather so affected me this time—or if it was, frankly, the root cause. Usually, dark, cool, drizzly weather is my favorite so far as energy level and mood goes. I love such days for working; always have. They suit my nature. Usually. This time, though, that typical expected zing and zip wasn't there for me. I hope it's a one-time thing.

I do believe we humans gravitate toward light (literally and metaphorically) from an instinctive basis. And you're also right that too much light too suddenly sometimes seems to unsettle and disorient us. I wonder if that's because we resist that direction from the desire to remain serving our own darker needs, or fear the clarity additional light brings? We're awfully good, and prone, to fooling and hiding from ourselves.

Robin said...

Grizz... I have no right to ask this question, but you being who you are...

Where were you 10 years ago this (soon to be) morning?

You are such a 'full' soul, to me... I'd love to know how you viewed that morning when we were so much younger.

~R

Grizz………… said...

Robin…

You can always ask me questions. As a reader—and more importantly, as a friend—you have that right. I may choose to not answer—publicly, anyway—but given what we've shared back and forth already, there's probably not much I wouldn't be willing to answer you on.

In fact, I already had the answer to your question in a post for today—though maybe not in the personal detail you wished. If that's the case, ask what you'd like to know and I'll do my best to answer.