The new dawn

I admit that I was on the edge New Year's Eve, completely sideswiped by my sudden mixed emotions on the changing year. But what happened when I woke yesterday morning was the realization that they were my fears only. A day is a day, the calendar year doesn't separate me from my father any further than losing him has. And the storm that blew through me that night was the very thing that though a bit fragile, left me feeling released and at peace in the morning.

As Cheyenne and I set out on our walk, a low fog wrapped the grounds in a soft white, and a gray sky outlined the crowns of the Oak trees and bare Sycamore branches. Soft as silk. After an hour, the sun burned through and turned it all into a glistening scene of dew on the sparkling grass. Nothing settles me or shows me more promise, more hope than what I discover in the mornings. It was important for me to have this first day of the year at the cabin, to breathe this air and to be among these little things that sweeten life. Indeed, I looked around me and thought, You can do it. One day at a time. You are doing just fine.