the Village Knittiot

Morning has always been my favorite time of the day. I love the peace and quiet of being up before everyone else. I love the stillness of my mind that mirrors the stillness in the world. Normally I am not the first person out of bed in our household. It is hard to beat a man who wakes up at 4:00 a.m. or shortly thereafter. But occassionally he allows himself the luxury of sleeping in and I get the delicious silence of the house all to myself.

As I walked into my office this morning and set my coffee cup on my desk (which I had managed to get by myself without spilling it all down the front of me or even burning my hand) I heard a familiar sound. Rhythmic honking. Call and response. Canadian Geese. When I lived in Minnesota, there was an abundance of Canadian Geese. Everywhere you went, it seemed, you were dodging the evidence of their infestation. They were quite a nuisance. Their little greenish-black poop logs covered every surface. The geese were also mean and fierce in their protection of the little tiny goslings they produce in abundance. Many people hated them, but not me. I thought they were beautiful. They were graceful and strong, albeit a little on the not-so-bright side. Plus, they hiss and flap their wings and stick their tounges out at you when they are trying to be threatening and that is just supremely funny (and also, admittedly, a little scary).

Here, I only hear them and get a glimpse of their retreating v’s. They don’t stick around pooping on lawns and holding up traffic. And when I see them it means that summer is really close to its end. I have never been particularly fond of summer, so I am not one to typically mourn its passing. It is often hot — oppressively so — which can make it just as difficult to do things as the winter weather does. But the longer days are heavenly and the chance to walk out the door without boots and heavy coats is important.

Still, I am always calmly pleased that fall is on its way. It is the seasonal equivalent of an early morning. Quiet and still. It makes me feel very aware of being alive. This is a good thing. And, of course, I love it for the same reasons everyone else does. It is beautiful.

I feel a little in-between right now. No nibbles on the house. Only one viewing. No job offers for Mr. Knittiot. I didn’t expect it to happen overnight. Oh, who am I kidding, I did too. Anyway, I am learning how to live in flux. It could all change tomorrow. It could take until six months from now. It’s hard to plan anything and this forces me back to momentary living. Something the Universe clearly wants me to get comfortable with.

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 20th, 2005 at 7:43 am and is filed under this Random Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.