I took my dog for a walk down the trail to the not-quite-frozen lake this beautiful morning. The early sun bounced off the snow in crystals that danced in my eyes as I sang old hymns at the top of my lungs in contentment.
An old man on a skidoo glides up next to us, sputtering like a northern motorcycle. Exchanging greetings in the squinting light, he promises to bring me fresh fish from the lake for my supper.
Clambering back up the trail to our house, I watch the spectrum of birds eating from the feeder outside my kitchen window as Reuben perks his ears to their chorus.
Opening the door, I am greeted by the pure tones of Glenn Gould's Goldberg Variations that I left turning on the cd player. Acoustic sunshine for the soul, I'd say.
My joy is complete as I sit in the streams of spring light at the kitchen table, preparing Shakespeare for next week's lessons.
Can life be more fulfilling than that? M
Raising the Yurt, part two
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