Saturday, January 24, 2009

Just a Few...

The other day I came across a filler piece in a magazine, a brief list of the author's favorite things. It was a telling list, and I thought, an interesting way to describe ones' self. What's on your list? Herewith is mine.

Sunrise. (I may as well begin at the beginning.) There's something magical about those first rays, the way the light reaches up, as though the day was stretching, flexing itself, opening its eyes. I like to watch the sky lighten while the earth still sleeps in darkness, see the horizon turn pale gray, then paler blue, then palest yellow at its eastern edge until the ball of the sun bounces up and over, spilling brightness everywhere.

Family, friends, folks I haven't met yet.

Hats. Hats with feathers. Hats with flowers. Hats with wide brims and trailing ribbons. Warm fleecy hats and sailor hats and baseball caps with the bill pulled down.

A mug of hot tea, sweetened with honey and liberally lightened with milk.

My snuggly blue sweater, the one with the shapeless sleeves and the raggedy cuffs. It's the first one I reach for if I'm feeling chilly or when I need a hug.

Flowers-lady slippers that peer shyly from the woodland floor, pepperminty phlox and purple violets, the sweet white bells of lily of the valley and the smiling faces of pansies, blue chickory that nods among the stately white blossoms of Queen Anne's Lace, elegant lilies, graceful iris, the bright yellow skirts of forsythia.

Sun dappled green is one of my favorite colors. So is robin's egg blue and sunset pink, purple the shade of a Scottish thistle, baby yarn yellow and every shade of gray.

A glimpse of wild things - fawns in the meadow at twilight, a startled coyote, turkeys fanning their courtship feathers, a red fox leaping for out-of-reach grapes, an owl drifting silently through the trees.

Warm fuzzy mittens.

Crisp apples.

Rainy days. I like being out in them. I like coming in from them. I like long, slow rains that fall from quilted skies and hard wild rain that falls in wind-driven slashes. I love to fall asleep to the patter of rain on the roof, like to press my nose to the window as it weeps raindrops.


Holidays. The warm scent of pumpkin pie and roasting turkey, presents and paper and ribbons and bows, decorated trees, eggs the colors of Easter, the bustle, the preparation, the excitement, the gathering of loved ones.

A blank sheet of paper. You never know what will appear there until the first word is written or the first line drawn.

Crayons. Felt-tipped markers. Long sticks of colored chalk. A newly sharpened pencil. Watercolors all misty and pale.

Toast with butter and cinnamon.

Brooks that tumble over rocks with a splash, wide green meadows, the very edge of a forest.

Trees. Sitting under them, hugging them, climbing them, talking to them, leaning back against them to dream.

Ripe blackberries, sun-warmed and succulent.

Solitude. Companionship. Sharing. The sound of laughter. The relief after tears.


Hot fudge sundaes. Rare steak. Cold lima beans.

Lighted windows at dusk.

Holding hands.



Ruth D~ said...

A magical list, poetic, and clearly from a grateful and observant soul. I'm with you on all of them, excepting your blue sweater and hats. :>) No hats for me. I love the feel of a cooling breeze as it filters beneath my hair, and the sun warming me from head to toe.

Love the list . . . I need to start one.

Lorna said...

Pauline, you and your creative mind have inspired me to make lists. Later on come and visit.

I have an assignment for you: Write a list of things that you do not like, or scare you, or anger you. That, along with the first list, is revealing.

I promise I will do it too, just so you know I am not asking you to do what I will not do. :-) :-)

Thank you for such a creative, literate blog.

meggie said...

Very telling list. Right there with you, on most of those. I am not keen on hats either, but I have equivalent of your blue sweater!

Barbara said...

No brown paper packages tied up with string? I love your list. It describes you so well. Loved hearing your voice this week as I lay there rather immobile in my hospital bed.

Roberta S said...

What a great list, Pauline. We share many favorite things. In particular, ah-yes, the old fleecy cast-off sweater from another's closet. Everytime I put it on and zip it up, I am newly amazed at the way it duplicates the feel of a warm physical and emotionally meaningful hug. Sweater hugs me a lot these very cold days, but not in public mind you. Because not only does it hug me so very tight, in addition to that I've always felt that any ongoing huggy-kind of intimacy should be rather discreet as well (so onlookers aren't whispering among themselves 'enough is enough already'). You see how it is -- as always you make me smile.

etcetera said...

A great exercise in appreciation. But cold lima beans? Really?!

Canbush said...

I can run with quite a few of the wisps of magic on your list although I too have to question the cold beans - they invoke the same response in me as cold soup, even when I know it's supposed to be like that.

Pauline said...

Ruth - I wasn't always a hat girl. Then I saw a movie with Audrey Hepburn and she wore the most beautiful hat...

Lorna - I'll have to give that one some thought

Meggie - there's little that comforts me as often...

Barbara - depends what's in that brown paper package

lol Roberta - my sweater is becoming so tattered I can't wear it in public

Trink - where did I go wrong? Cold lima beans are GOOD!

Dave - cold soup stops me cold too but I like almost any kind of bean hot or cold

goatman said...

I like synchrony: when seemingly disparate things come together: makes me smile.

Pauline said...

you must smile a lot, goatman. that's a good thing.