Today is a day of rain and more rain, steady and reasonably heavy. Now the sun begins to sink behind the cloud covered mountains and darkness begins. I am once more alone as night falls. I have sense of the vastness of the mountains and forest around me, feel vulnerable, open.
It was a day of vulnerability. The batteries are not charging well since I washed the clothes, the internet went off once, and earthquake shook and jolted on through--6.0. Who knows what the road is doing. It has been out right past my place toward town and also the main Hayfork road was closed for two weeks and has only now been opened. I have been in Boston where you flip switches and light come on, move dials and heat rises and day and night are not such noticeable changes in the winter.
Yes darkness and vulnerability surround me. The dog lies by the wood stove which I have just fed. The wind which was blowing the door open has quieted now that the rain is pouring. The storm has over taken us. There has been no traffic and Richard is holed up at his house. I am amused at the irony in modern conveniences which leave us feeling stranded when they fail. Life was so much simpler when there was no power to go out.
This solitude and openness to a moment of the life carries a truth that I bow to. I am open to the coming darkness, to the loss of power, to the snags swaying on the hill, to the live pine and cedar by the road dancing with the wind, to the cold rain and green grass and 10,000 frogs chortling and gruging. This moment of my life I am looking out the casement window and loving all of it. The sorrow of the things gone wrong and the purity of the rain washing and soaking deep down, the wind chime, all the decisions I made to get me to here and now, all the roads taken and not taken. Being alive to it all is magnificent! From the openness and the vulnerability comes gratitude for this simple imperfect moment, which is all I have or need or want.