An Artist's Quest

Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles

If you read my posts last week then you know I was in New York City all week for my nieces Bat Mitzvah.  Francesca did beautifully, singing the Torah with a crystal clear angelic voice, and her talk about the Torah was both relevant and wise.  Mazal tov!

The weather in New York was frigid even for New Yorkers, so you can imagine how this Northern California girl did.  But I found myself enjoying the icy beauty that was presented to me.  I took this picture one particularly icy gray morning last week as I walked to the Cloisters, not far from where my sister lives. It was stunning in its stark beauty and put me in mind of WPA photos of the during the depression era 30’s.  The whole neighborhood seems to fall back into another time held tight in a snowy icy grip and I was thankful for this fleeting glimpse into what seemed like a slice in the ice curtain of time.

And some how, by the miracle of flight, I find myself rising from my own bed after a long late night drive from the airport to witness one of the wonders of the world; a winter sunrise over the hills here in Sonoma County with delicate fingers of fog stroking the Russian river below.  I slipped on a light jacket, my camera in my pocket, to walk the dog and greet the day.  I was once again thankful for this moment in time and my chance to witness the movement of time first hand in the rising of the sun from a hillside thousands of miles from where I witnessed it the day before.

Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles.

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7 responses

  1. Nicole Ross

    Thank you for reminding me of the amazing place that we call home. Sometimes I take it for granted, but it’s the little things that make it magical.

    January 24, 2011 at 9:03 am

    • I think it’s good to leave home, be uncomfortable, shiver a bit then review, renew, reinvest in what is home.

      January 24, 2011 at 12:40 pm

  2. Julie

    I too have wondered at the miracle of morning. Its like I’ve arisen from a small death to a new birth. Fresh, another chance, start all over. To day is the first day. I also wonder at the quiet. Before it gets all crowded with the whir, the activity in which we quit the observation and lose the present , plunge into our ego driven anxieties that we must accomplish something today or… or what? Morning is a new thing, until it becomes old with the day.

    Can we make the morning last all day? Or is it inevitable to grow old into day? Can I see the stillness at noon?

    What does sunset look like? Do I surrender to the end of the day or drink a cup of coffee and make the day last longer to get more things done?

    January 24, 2011 at 11:26 am

  3. doug wade

    Thanks for sharing this, Lisa.
    doug

    January 24, 2011 at 7:48 pm

  4. Pamela

    It is the icey moments that allow us to absorb the warmth around us. We are all blessed no mater what the moment may be giving, look for what doesn’t stand out.

    January 28, 2011 at 8:40 pm

    • I so agree, the wonder of each day unfolding is a great blessing, the challenge is stepping back enough to see it. Lisa

      January 30, 2011 at 3:39 pm

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