Old Year, New Year

Which, then, of your Lord's favours will you deny?
Q:55

The smell of fresh coffee, bagels with cream cheese and salmon, starting out on a long walk, the orange lights caught in the morning haze, the myriad colours of the leaves in autumn....

I tumble out of bed, my hand reaching for a book; the first words I stumble across this year are:
Everything here will outlive me,
Even the houses of the stare
And this air I breathe, the spring air,
Ending its flight across the sea...

After the night's purifying rain the earth is bathed in a glorious sunlight this morning. Everything moves to a slower pace today and the few people we come across are in no hurry to get to where they are going. There is no striving, the ego is hushed. It is as if everything has found its ancient rhythm once again and we, too, a deep animal repose and contentedness.

A gentle breeze glides through the grass, caressing it, weaving mysterious patterns below the solemn gaze of the trees. It will not last or we won't witness such a day again. A film has lifted from our eyes and the eternal is present once again, in all its radiant simplicity. Dew drops glisten like a thousand diamonds and no child cries.