Saturday, June 27, 2009

Sounds of morning

Last night's sunset, even more fire-red at the horizon than this shows. Is it possible to capture the true colors?

Up early today. Couldn't sleep. So opened up some windows and sat looking and listening to what remained of the night. It's still dark, but there is life rustling everywhere. I hear traffic on the freeway in the valley. An occasional plane taking off out at the airport. The wind in the neighbor's large tree sounds like rushing water. And birds, already, though it is still dark. The robins, of course, are up early as always trilling, cheerrrup, churrup, cheerrup, churrup. Incessant and never-varying.

We get black headed grosbeaks here that sound a lot like robins, but as my friend's friend astutely noted, "like a robin that's been to Julliard".

It rained very hard last night. The air from the window is cool, not cold, fresh, inspiring. I'm already planning my morning. A little work around the house, then off to lunch and a movie with my Reel Women friends.

I need to write a serious blog, but can't seem to, neither at my own RedStateBlues nor at OneUtah. I want to feel fired up about something and I just don't. My body and soul are seeking peace right now. It's not something I can control. It just is. I'm not sure why.

I do have an increased load of projects at work: over 20 different writing projects, and it appears that's going to be the norm from now on. When I originally started, there were three software testers and one writer. Now there are 13 testers and one writer, and we will be hiring more testers this year. Next year we will need to hire another writer. I have it down to something of a science, and seem to keep absorbing the workload. But so much writing during the day perhaps drains my writing reservoir and leaves nothing for my personal writing at night. I don't know.

I know with J moving to the northern country (on again, off again, but eventually), I feel my life is in a state of flux, and perhaps that keeps me wrapped up in my own life and less inclined to write about other things. It's one of those things I can't tie up neatly with a bow as I am wont to do with all things in my life. I just have to let it be what it is. There is neither sadness nor resignation in this, but just a sense of unfinished business. And with me, the quintessential problem-solver, I'm always feeling I must do something. But there is nothing I can do.

The alarm clock rings as I write this. Time to start my day, although I'm already on my second cup of coffee. The day is well underway.

I sometimes wish sleep were optional. I do enjoy these early mornings, the peacefulness of them. But I know I will be tired later. I know I need the sleep. My body needs the sleep. But my soul needs this refreshment, too.

After age 60, you have a realization you are in the last third of your life. Time seems to pick up speed, and you feel a great need to waste no time. I'm wondering if that is behind my lack of writing in the blogs -- wasting time. Not that I feel such a need to be productive all the time, or to leave some legacy before I die, but more a need to be sure to experience life every day. Don't waste any of the days remaining.

I'm not going to rush this morning. Take my time. Do what I reasonably can. Though I am troubled by falling behind in the weeding and maintenance outdoors, and lack of progress on projects indoors, I will try to clear my mind of guilt and just let this peaceful moment carry me through the morning as best I can. I so look forward to spending time with my friends later.

I took some pictures of the glorious red sunset that followed last evening's deluge. If I may be forgiven, I will post yet another picture of my ever-changing view -- a metaphor for my life.

The sky, at first an innocent pink and blue, lulls us into complacency, unprepared for the blazing red to follow in mere seconds.

7 comments:

Michael said...

Good morning / afternoon Becks. I really enjoyed your blog and can identify with large drifts of it. I was awake at 5am, so humid here, so I amused myself twiddling through internet radio land. I thought you should know this........laughing.

bekkieann said...

I'm glad to know this, Mick. Even though your 5 a.m. is hours before mine, I feel connected through our early morning wanderings and ponderings.

Catfish Tales said...

Wow, beautifully written. I find your aging perspective so interesting. However, I thought as one got older the natural tendency was to slow down and not speed up. Since hitting my 50s I've been going in much slower gear and nothing seems quite as urgent or necessary as it used to...rather, more relative in a just 'going with the flow 'cause you can't take it with you' kind of sense.

bekkieann said...

I'd prefer to slow down, Catfish, but it's more a matter of hours and days speeding by against my will and my own feeling that I need to do more with my time. Twice in the past 24 hours I smacked my head hard just out of hurrying and not paying attention to things above me. That should be warning enough for me to try to slow down a bit.

I need to adopt your philosophy of going with the flow 'cause you can't take it with you. I'm going to think on that a bit. Maybe I can drop down a gear or two.

Jacqui Binford-Bell said...

I missed this wonderful prose entry because of how busy the last 1/3 of my life has become. I came to your page to get the url to link you as the blame for my sore muscles doing a lasagna garden. I posted my progress on Sidetracked Charley this morning.

What is it about June and July that makes us want to sit and soak it all in? At the same time I uploaded my pictures of the new garden bed I too uploaded a dawn picture to FlickR. It will no doubt be posted in the future.

And if it were not for the health issue falling in my lap with my ex, or the pit bull issue getting in my face literally I doubt I would be doing any "serious" blogging just now either. My heart and mind seem to just want to sit and watch the dawns and sunsets. Or walk out to the edge of my new garden inspired by you and dream of how it will look next summer.

bekkieann said...

Jacqui, I read your post about the poppies and columbine and I want to remember to plant some of both of those this fall when things cool down again. I have just one columbine in my yard, and it is a star performer. I've no idea why I've never planted more. And I have no poppies at all, though I dearly love those large orange blooms in the spring as well as the little golden California poppies. I am making a note for my fall planting.

I'm also giving myself a pass for not writing so much these days. It is just too glorious outdoors to spend much of my spare time at the computer. Just moments ago as I walked out on the patio with my morning coffee, I startled a little deer nibbling at my apple tree. One of those moments that lifts one's spirits as you know.

It sounds like things are going from bad to worse for your ex. I know how that weighs you down and you never feel fully at peace with that in the back of your mind. But our gardens do provide some escape, don't they? We can only hope that things start to improve for him after this devastating turn of events.

I will be back to my usual writing in awhile.

Jacqui Binford-Bell said...

I think it is so common to think of poppies and columbines as weeds for they thrive as if they were. And yet when they bloom I always wonder why I do not have more. So when I set out to do this garden my intention was to make it for them. And some of the herbs I can never kill.

Yes, it is too gorgeous outside. I was just there with my last cup of morning coffee and my journal upon whose pages I pen my poetry. I was listening to the birds and wondering which was the black capped Grosbeak which we also have here. Love that line about a Robin that went to Julliard. I think my red wing blackbirds are also graduates.

But my painting awaits. Have decided what color the sky will be on my newest. Enjoy your day. I plan to take frequent breaks to sit outside in the sun.