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.