Maybe it’s a visceral awareness that within your familiar walls there are now unfamiliar branches – the nearby presence of some organic mechanism still intent on surviving, even growing if it can, drinking in whatever water is nearby.
The day before was about leaving home in quest mode. It was a day aimed at locating and acquiring, making fit and making sure, a day of arriving back home with a longed-for prize. Years of instinct and example then came into play in deciding and arranging, illuminating and decking, occasionally venturing to say “No, this year why don’t we…”
The first morning in a home with a freshly decorated tree is exceptionally quiet after the previous day’s inevitable mulling and reverie. The freshly seeing and the freshly smelling. Memories stirring and sometimes tears needing to be quieted. Some unsuspected cycle is recalled with the installation of even the humblest of table top trees.
That was the case for me yesterday.
Against the backdrop of a bookcase, a tree brought the parts of my life into the orbit of its lights. An occasional brightness picked out book titles, enamel roses on a family vase, a hammered pewter frame.
Growing peace, growing contentment.Yesterday was about surveying a job well done – conscientiously, earnestly done.
It was about the ancient call of Gaudete on this Third Sunday of Advent.
Advent joy in Advent waiting.
Image of firefly lantern from Firefly Forest
2 comments:
That was lovely.
I miss having a real tree. It used to fill the house with the aroma or pine sap. I try burning a candle with some scent but it is a pale comparison.
A real tree feels more like a guest, doesn't it?
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