"When I write stories I am like someone who is in her own country, walking along streets that she has known since she was a child, between walls and trees that are hers." --Natalia Ginsburg

Friday 30 November 2012

Goodnight Moon




Goodnight Moon




“The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers & cities; but to know someone who thinks & feels with us, & who, though distant, is close to us in spirit, this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden.”
 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


The view from my deck this morning was inspiring. As I stood there listening to the happy chatter of the birds—obviously they drink dark roast too—I looked at the little sliver of moon and thought of my friends in Western Canada who still slept under the same moon, and my friends to the east, Britain and Germany, who were well into their day, but were living under the same sky although the moon was no longer visible to them. It made the world seem smaller and my friends not so far away.

Sunday afternoon I lay down for a nap and listened to the birds outside my window and watched the sheers blow softly in the spring breeze. I drifted off to sleep and woke to the telephone ringing. My friend was calling me from England. We had a leisurely chat and shared the weeks news, knowing that although it cost, it is not excessive like it was just a few years ago. While the time difference is a challenge, we like to talk whenever we can time it right. We use Facebook and emails, and sometimes share an ongoing Scrabble game online; but there is nothing like hearing the warmth of her voice as she talks about her son, or hearing her sympathize ----and laugh, at my latest-- it could only happen to me story.

Both my Father’s and Mothers’ families are large and I have many cousins. Usually I see a few of them once a year at our family reunion or occasionally around the community. I have some of these cousins on my Facebook and I like to see what is going on in their lives, banter a bit and share family photos. I have two grown nephews living in Alberta and although they call sometimes, we mostly use Facebook to keep in touch.

I used to love to write letters—the old fashioned way. I would choose my words carefully, underline, punctuate…and write in ink. If I made a mistake, I would scrap it and start over again as many times as I needed to get it right, I went through massive amounts of paper. I would send it off and wait. Forever. Now we can type and choose fonts, add, delete, choose different words, cut and paste--check carefully-- and when satisfied, press enter and our letters are received immediately.

My mind was busy today thinking about the beautiful world we share; and the technology that makes it easier to share my part of the world with friends and family—and even people in my community. I took the above picture from my deck at 6am this morning; it was posted to Facebook and around the world before the sun had completely raised its' tousled head above the horizon.

Indeed this world--my world--where I live, love, breathe and share my heart, is an inhabited garden. There is the poignant silence of those who have graced my life with their love and friendship, but have moved on to eternity; and the delight of those who walk with me now. As we make our way around the moon tonight, and in turn take our rest, please know that I am thankful to God for those of you who choose to share my world--with love, Annie

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