Winter came swooping in overnight and the temperature plunged to 20 degrees. It plans on staying there all day. So I found myself this morning settled in with a cup of coffee and a copy of Jean Hersey's book, The Shape of a Year. I have been faithfully reading this book - month by month - containing Ms. Hersey's observations of life in and around her Connecticut home and small farm. It was published in 1967.
I was enjoying her comments on the colors and fragrances of November and how she put together a terrarium made of moss, tiny ferns and plants, and a bit of lichen-covered rock or bark picked up on a walk in the woods near her house. I was tempted to try my hand at making her recipe for herb bread.
And then the lights went out. And the heat.
It didn't take long for my house to become quite chilly. And it was just a bit too dim to continue reading.
After about 45 minutes, power was restored. Then it went off for another 20 minutes and then came back on. Finally, I picked up Ms. Hersey again and in a moment, this is what I was reading:
I am thankful for light -- all kinds, man-made and natural. How lovely is dawn light, starlight, sunlight on green grass, candlelight, house lights on stormy nights, or on any night, street lights, and firelight. And the first streaming sunlight after a week of gray days and showers.
There is the magic of shining car lights on wet pavements on rainy nights. The mysterious lights on bridges like necklaces of diamonds in the gloaming. One of my favorite lights is the yellow beam of our outside light that greets us from down the road when we have been away for the evening.
Well, I couldn't agree more. And what a pleasant meditation to read after sitting in the gloomy morning waiting for electric light - and heat - to return.