On the first Sunday in November, time danced backward an hour in the little blue house in the village, and Daylight Saving Time waved goodbye until next year. The week also marked ten straight years of blogging, ten years of logging on here in the morning, posting an image or three, then muttering along for a few paragraphs. Astonishing stuff indeed, and it boggles the mind—there are still moments when I can't believe I had the audacity to set this e-journal up in the first place, let alone do the blogging thing faithfully for ten years in a row.
These are my vägmärken (road marks), my morning or artist's pages, and they will probably remain pretty much as they are in the coming year. There may be a scant handful of font and banner tinkerings now and again, but that is about it. I don't foresee any significant changes to this place, and I expect life will simply go on as it has been doing so far.
We will continue to meander along at our own pace, watching morning fogs enfold the eastern Ontario highlands and oak leaves raining like honey in the autumn woods, feasting our eyes on skies alight with winter stars, on the sun going down like a ball of fire over Dalhousie Lake at the trailing edge of the year. This year's serious health "stuff" notwithstanding, it's grand to be here and all wrapped up in what we like to call simply, "the Great Round". Every morning, the small adventures of our journeying will continue to make their way here and get spilled out on the computer screen with a bad photo and a whole rucksack of wonder. Mary Oliver says it best:
The years to come – this is a promise –
will grant you ample time
to try the difficult steps in the empire of thought
where you seek for the shining proofs you think you must have.
But nothing you ever understand will be sweeter, or more binding,
than this deep affinity between your eyes and the world.
(excerpt from Terns)
In another poem, she wrote that sometimes one needs only to stand wherever she is to be blessed, something I need to remember and am always forgetting. Thank you for journeying along with me this year. You are treasured more than you can ever know.