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Life's Ups and Downs
Jan. 9th, 2011 07:50 pmAbout a week ago, I wrote this:
Clarity After a Storm
California got another big dose of rain over the weekend. Today, the sky was washed clear of smog and haze, the mountains crystal clear and so near, it seems I could run there in an hour or so (never mind this would be impossible, I don't run for one thing, and for another, it's a climb of about 6000 feet). The jagged peaks are blanketed in white. As a child, I recall the mountains looking as they do today on a daily basis, but with today's smog, more often they're only dimply glimpsed through a haze, like an opaque curtain is dimming their beauty.
While the storm was severe, what it brought today was a gift of a gorgeous view. I liken it to a new beginning of this New Year, weathering the storm ofloss that 2010 brought, hopefully gaining some clarity and wisdom, and putting away the sorrow. Never will I forget our friends who are no longer with us, but I'm finding acceptance and peace. For now.
Then yesterday, came this post:
Oh, the weather!
We're in January, in case you hadn't noticed. We can't help but notice it here, because we're stuck in gray-mode. After all our rains, the fogs have arrived. I probably won't see the sun again for a couple of weeks -- either until the next round of storms, or until we go to the coast. And it's cold. SO COLD, it eats into your bones. While I'm sure my 40 degrees sounds like summer to Easterners and MidWesteners, I have it from reliable authority that it feels much colder than it sounds. My friend who lived in Alaska would complain about the cold when she came to visit in the winter. She said it felt much colder than Alaska. How can it feel colder than Alaska in winter? I don't know, but it does. I think it has something to do with the fog and the damp and how it just eats into your bones. And the never-ending gray sky is just depressing. Even clouds would be better, but this is just gray, formless, monotone. Yech. I hate winter.
AND TODAY'S THOUGHT:
So we went from clarity to fog. Which is completely what life is like. And what makes it so interesting. It's only after the lows that we can tell how high the high is. If it was always clear, we'd tend to downplay it. I see it at the coast all the time. The full-time residents will keep their curtains drawn, ignoring the beauty outside their windows because they see it all the time.
Clarity After a Storm
California got another big dose of rain over the weekend. Today, the sky was washed clear of smog and haze, the mountains crystal clear and so near, it seems I could run there in an hour or so (never mind this would be impossible, I don't run for one thing, and for another, it's a climb of about 6000 feet). The jagged peaks are blanketed in white. As a child, I recall the mountains looking as they do today on a daily basis, but with today's smog, more often they're only dimply glimpsed through a haze, like an opaque curtain is dimming their beauty.
While the storm was severe, what it brought today was a gift of a gorgeous view. I liken it to a new beginning of this New Year, weathering the storm ofloss that 2010 brought, hopefully gaining some clarity and wisdom, and putting away the sorrow. Never will I forget our friends who are no longer with us, but I'm finding acceptance and peace. For now.
Then yesterday, came this post:
Oh, the weather!
We're in January, in case you hadn't noticed. We can't help but notice it here, because we're stuck in gray-mode. After all our rains, the fogs have arrived. I probably won't see the sun again for a couple of weeks -- either until the next round of storms, or until we go to the coast. And it's cold. SO COLD, it eats into your bones. While I'm sure my 40 degrees sounds like summer to Easterners and MidWesteners, I have it from reliable authority that it feels much colder than it sounds. My friend who lived in Alaska would complain about the cold when she came to visit in the winter. She said it felt much colder than Alaska. How can it feel colder than Alaska in winter? I don't know, but it does. I think it has something to do with the fog and the damp and how it just eats into your bones. And the never-ending gray sky is just depressing. Even clouds would be better, but this is just gray, formless, monotone. Yech. I hate winter.
AND TODAY'S THOUGHT:
So we went from clarity to fog. Which is completely what life is like. And what makes it so interesting. It's only after the lows that we can tell how high the high is. If it was always clear, we'd tend to downplay it. I see it at the coast all the time. The full-time residents will keep their curtains drawn, ignoring the beauty outside their windows because they see it all the time.
