A Small Window of Time

An orange glow fills the room.

It is the first thing I notice when I open my eyes in the morning.  It is a rare sight to see. The windows are overshadowed by the fullness of the trees when it is not winter.  The glow takes away the impact, the bite of cold that winter ushers in.

The sun moves quickly across the horizon, shifting the light that shines within.  Everything changes in the transition.  It seems almost a sacrilege to go on about the day before this window of time has been completed.

If I were to pull back the curtains, I would see the pond across the way with its waters shimmering like diamonds where the light bounces in brilliance.  It is a mesmerizing unfolding drama and if the ball of light in the sky did not dance along its path in the quick step of time, it would be ever so easy to get lost as if there wasn’t the restraint of time.  It is not thunder that invades my perception; the three horses appear within the view of the window on their run across the landscape.

Life has changed so much, as is expected in the passage of time.  Where time clocks and deadlines once began the day, now there are settings of dancing diamonds and the beat of unbridled passion pounding the earth.  The voices that once demanded service and obedience or ushered condemnation and selfish expectations have been replaced with the chatter of birds and the squeak of a porch swing moving with the wind.  The blue heron now sits closely to where the hawk perched yesterday in the evening sun.  The wet-weather creek down by the corner of the property remains a shelter and a home, for its waters never totally recede.

How I got from there to here is a journey down a long, winding road.  The beginning was not so promising and walking that pathway from then to now has not been without pain. Scars remain where the injuries were incurred.  Losses are mere memories as redemption and healing has occurred.  Certain scents and particular sounds take me back to a different place and time where battles were fought and the school of hard knocks did not come with a diploma to frame and hang on the wall.

A small window of time has passed.  The views of daily life have indeed been mounted on a different horizon, but the sun hasn’t changed and still shines brightly.  It is the obstacles in between that burning fire and me that have been replaced from what was to what is.

An orange glow fills the room now.  It takes away the impact, the bite of cold that winter ushers in.

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