Mornings in the mountains

 On these cold, clear mornings I rise early in the dark; the "bewitching hour" as some think of it.  I get the coffee going and then walk out onto the frost covered deck.  The quarter moon has set so the stars in our world blaze brilliantly in a sky free from all light pollution.   I stand still to let my eyes adjust and then look for the Hunter with his bejeweled belt, standing century in the east.  

Over the top of the mountain I find Pleiades, the Seven Sisters, one of my favorite constellations.  These sisters turn my thoughts to my own sisters.  I mourn the loss of one of them, not that she is gone from this world but she has chosen to be gone from my life.  I send prayers asking for help with the navigation to forgiveness for myself and my own peace as well as peace for what remains of my family.

I search for the Big Dipper, tilted and spilling over these days.  I follow the arch of its handle to the bright star, Arcturus ... "Arch to Arcturus" as I was taught.  Arcturus now hovers, barely visible, on top of the mountains that frame this valley.

I breathe in and stare in wonder at the Universe that is on display for me on these mornings.  I raise my arms in greeting to my ancestors, and to all the loved ones gone from this world and so greatly missed.  In this season of "thanks giving" I send my thanks up into the heavens, gratitude for all that I have, all the love that I am embraced by, all the blessings bestowed on me over all these years.

My dog, Rosie, now jams herself between my legs reminding me that it's cold as I feel her shivering.  I bend low to hold her tight with my thighs and to wrap my arms around her.  She wiggles with delight but continues to shiver.  I ask her, "want to go inside?" and she is at the door before I have time to stand up.  Back inside, with a hot cup of coffee, I return to a warm bed.

Mornings in the mountains.

(Photo credit, David B. Lovejoy @ Lobster Lake)