A poem for short days and long nights

Now as the year swings down,
and the darkness encloses
even the smallest bird,
the largest animal,
and we too enter the hour
when everything is falling once more
into the twilight
of not knowing,
what we ask is that
you be with us,

not as a pillar of fire
nor a blaze across
the heavens,
but like water
at rest in a pitcher
which catches the morning light
and is filled
with its own radiance.
Dorothy Walters, Hymn to the Nameless One

It took me a while to post this poem, not that it was hard or complicated, but I could not find the right picture. Then, today, I opened a couple of folders, and this one presented itself. Just like that.

I try, as much as I can, to use my own photos, partly because it is not fair to take other people’s stuff, but mostly because I am connected to these pictures, and can recall when and how it was taken.

The best part of taking pictures, and what always blows me away, how most of them are simply stunning. This one took my breath away too!

It must have been taken in early October in Adirondacks. I usually spend a weekend hiking and teaching yoga for the YMCA’s Women Adventure Weekend in Camp Gorham. We do yoga at 7 am, and most likely I was checking the weather,  figured out that is really cold, and was mumbling “how the heck am I going to teach in this cold?”

I am glad I had enough presence of my mind to take this photo, because  there is no trace in my memory of that class, I have no idea if it was cold or not, if we changed the room, if people enjoyed it or not.

What I do have, is that amazing moment of the early morning light and mist coming off the Darts Lake, and the boats softly swaying and reflecting on the lake.

but like water
at rest in a pitcher
which catches the morning light
and is filled
with its own radiance.

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