Fine in ’09

Cherish your humble and silky life

/ wvfurandroot / 5 Comments
Dw on the peony.

Dew on the peony.

Peonies

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open –
pools of lace,
white and pink –
and all the day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities –
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again –
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

— Mary Oliver

5 a.m.

/ wvfurandroot / 3 Comments
Morning coffee.

Morning coffee.

I’m learning to love 5 a.m.

For most of my life, I was a night owl. Mornings were hellacious daymares of fumbling fingers and disoriented thoughts. It seems my circadian cycle is shifting. I go to bed early and wake early.

I resisted this at first thinking it was some sort of problem. To some extent it is a problem. By 8 p.m., I’m crawling into bed with a novel when most folk I know are settling into the evening’s entertainment. I don’t answer the phone once I’m in bed. Lord knows, a lot of folks are mystified by my refusal to answer the phone. They’re also mystified that I don’t spend my evenings comatose in front of a television screen. (I prefer comatose in front of a computer screen.)

5 amBut I’m beginning to like my early mornings.

I wake, usually, before the alarm goes off. I still kind of fumble around at first, but nothing like the days of old. It only takes a few minutes before I have command of my body and brain. I still can’t bear noise at this hour. I live alone and consequently don’t have to endure the chatter of another human being. (Honest, I still don’t understand folks who wake up talking. Shifting circadian cycles or not, idle chatter in the a.m. is repulsive and enraging. Just don’t talk to me. Please.)

For years, I’ve set up coffee the night before, hit the delay brew button, and thus the coffee is ready as soon as I arrive in the kitchen. I still do this even if now I am capable of making coffee in the a.m. I like that it’s ready when I’m ready for it.

Cuddly Willy.

Cuddly Willy.

I trundle downstairs, hit the laptop power button on my way to letting the dogs out, pour coffee and settle into the corner of the chaise where it right angles with the rest of the sofa. Normally, Babette and Trudy have a little nosh and head back to the crate for more z’s. Willy and I nest here.

He cuddles and I surf. Sometimes, we both stare out the atrium door at the garden. We (at least I think he does) think Great Thoughts ™. I plan my day. Often I blog. On particularly alert days, I take photos in the garden – the morning light is exquisite.

Needy Willy

Needy Willy

After a couple hours of this, I head for the shower and dress for the day.

It’s a nice leisurely start to a day. It’s worth losing the evening hours over.  I find that I’m more grounded and centered.  By the time I leave the house, I’m raring to go and can cheerfully endure the chatter of my co-workers.  It’s all good.

I’m learning to love 5 a.m.