Tinges of sunlight peek through tree branches brightening the dew that gathered on the leaf tips.
The first gentle birdsong of the day breaks through the quiet morning in the meadow.
Nature’s alarm clock for sleepy, nestled down creatures.
Twitching noses tentatively sniff the chilled air. Who’s passed through during the night?
With that first chirp, meadow life shifts into motion for another day.
Grasses and tall flowers sway with the breeze, their stems bending low as fat bumblebees sip and tiny birds snip at seeds and insects along the delicate leaves and petals.
A mountain stream chatters and sings as it makes its way over branches and rocks.
Teeming with life, furry creatures wait motionless along the edges of the stream for their breakfast of insects, tadpoles, and crawdads. A full smorgasbord!
Far off, the repetitive pecking of a woodpecker echoes off the surrounding trees, blending in harmony with the full chorus of birdsong that resounds in the meadow.
So much life, so much beauty. Divine fingerprints everywhere.
A warmer afternoon lulls and soothes the busy inhabitants of the meadow. The pace of hunting, gathering, and gossiping fades and slows.
Traveling along its Creator made path the sun begins the descent toward the horizon.
The light and air take on a different feel – cooling, dimming, winding down.
Ethereal. Supernatural.
The day dwellers begin their tasks of settling in as snug dens and cozy nests beckon.
Night falls and the moon and stars take over the sky.
Night dwellers stretch, sniff the cooling air, and begin their routines. Their time in the meadow has a different energy than that of the day timers.
It is a time of quiet, stealth, and keen observation. Eyes and ears always alert.
They are just as busy as the day creatures, but go about things in a careful, hushed, and methodical way.
Moonlight and shadows are their friends as mystery and other worldliness take center stage.
His Divine Presence is here in the cover of night just as much as in the light of day.
He looks at all of creation and says, “It is good.”
The early morning sun offers the promise of warmth and expectation.
An indolent day at the beach is exactly what is needed!
Arms laden with a beach bag full of vittles, sunscreen, and a towel, I discover the perfect spot to settle in for the day.
Cliffs behind me, ocean before me, sun above me, sand below.
Perfection. Shelter. Peace.
My little space is set up; all is in order and ready for me to be one with the breeze and old-Earth smell of brine and life and decay.
Shoes off, sunscreen on, now to the water.
Contradictions.
That is what I see in the ocean, yet also safety, born out of the ancient rhythms of the Earth—forever marching on, steady and unyielding.
The tide’s constancy is relentless, untamable, fierce; all without apology, the ocean does what it is meant to do.
The water laps and rushes and chases my feet, startling and elemental in its coldness. Invigorating and inspiring.
The birds, crabs, and tiny sea creatures count on the unchanging ways of the ocean because it is life to them. The ocean gives, and these creatures take.
But I think the ocean is also a taker. It takes the worries, stress, fears, and uncertainties in life; it takes words spoken and wept and screamed by those who walk the beach looking for answers, solace, and peace. We push those things out of our hearts, and the ocean pulls them into itself.
A lovely dance.
Perhaps this is what God does for us. He takes all the fear, rage, worry, and tears that we spew out into Himself and pulls them away from us as we release it all to Him. He is fierce, constant, untamable, mysterious, and present. He gives life; He is love; we rely on Him.
Back at my sanctuary, the sand under my legs and back is so warm, relaxing, and inviting. It is solid and permanent; warmth leeches into my chilled bones, lulled to a drowsy peacefulness.
With closed eyes and warm sun baking down in pleasant coziness, I notice my other senses stirred; susurrating waves whisper and breathe, birds call overhead; somewhere, a dog is barking.
That scent of salt floats on the ever-present breeze along with notes of a barbecue and the cloying scent of flowers.
Drowsy and dreamy, my mind wanders in that half-dreaming state of blissful rest.
The sun has shifted in the sky, and there is a slight chill in the air. How long have I been lying here?
Hunger gnaws, so here come the snacks.
Seagulls make an appearance and scold and demand that I share, watching closely every move I make. I share.
Before packing up, it’s time for a walk.
There are footprints going before me in the sea-soaked sand, and I wonder whose they are and what secrets they’ve spoken to the sea today.
Interesting how before long, all traces of my footprints will be washed away, as if I had never walked here; as if the past is washed away and cleaned up and brand-new sand is offered up for a new direction, new footprints, new promises.
Jesus cleans up our lives like this; the old washed away, the new offered up; clean, lovely, and ready for a new journey. Sun dipping down, air quite cool, water coming higher; my signal to call it a day.
Heading to the car, I feel rested, new, and cleansed, a little wild and wooly from the rawness of the ocean and its wild and chaotic yet perfectly ordered dance.
A crescent ray of filtered sunlight peeps in through the upstairs bedroom window.
Languid, lazy stretches; it’s cozy under the heavy heirloom quilt. I doze a bit longer, enjoying the peace and quiet, until the calico cat frisks and pounces on my moving foot, forcing me to get up and begin the day.
Soft, fluffy slipper socks wait next to the pine wood nightstand. Quilt-warmed feet are toasty padding down the narrow stairs; the familiar creak at the fifth step from the bottom is comforting.
Snow!
A light snow has fallen in the night, coating the garden and the stone fence with a sparkly spunkiness that beckons a walk to the village.
But first, coffee!
The warm, comforting coffee scent permeates the chilly kitchen. Crispy bacon on toast sounds delicious this snow-bright morning—just enough until I make my way to Penny’s Pastries in the village square.
The watery sunlight filtering through the slowly building clouds begs for knee-high snow boots, the puffed navy-blue snow jacket and thick, red tartan scarf, navy gloves, and a beanie. Festive and snug!
The fluffy white cat lounges in his cardboard box bed on the end of the couch, watching sleepily as I don my winter apparel. He is quite happy to lie about for the morning, nestled down on the red fleece blanket tucked into the box.
Wrapped up and warm, I venture into the pretty snow-covered garden and out the creaky, wooden gate to begin my snowy adventure.
More snow than I realize has fallen during the night. The way it gently drifts and pillows the lane into the village square is lovely and inviting—that satisfying snow-crunch underfoot.
Winking, colorful Christmas lights add a festive sparkle to the windows of Della’s Curio Shoppe on the corner. Antique Christmas decorations and assorted glass bowls filled with hard candies invite one to step inside and browse the eclectic trinkets. A calming scent of vanilla, fir, and old things tease the senses. A jolly-looking antique snowman catches my eye. Carefully wrapped trinket in hand, I venture on into the village.
The small group of well-bundled carolers gracing the entrance to the old stone church sing with gusto as they nod a greeting to those who stop to listen. Their blending sopranos and altos swirl up and away into the wintry air on frosted breath. A wistful sigh of nostalgia brushes against me as I remember Christmases past with caroling, hot cocoa, and festive holiday laughter…the anticipation of Christmas Eve and the Greatest gift to mankind.
Ah! Penny’s Pastries!
The scent of baking, heady and delicious, wafts from the wreathed door as patrons come and go, leaving a path in the powdery snow. Will she have fresh cream currant scones? She does! I settle myself, the scone, and some steamy Winter Blend tea at a rustic table near the windows. People watching!
Across the square, Nadia’s Toys & Treasures is doing brisk business this morning! The festive window display draws in the strolling families as they watch the model train set navigate the miniature hills and tunnels covered in flakey snow. Tiny sheep and cattle settled on the snowy fields watch its progress. Wide-eyed children beg to go in and see where that tiny train goes on its round-and-round journey. Adventure!
Kitty-corner is Bea’s Nifty Notions n’ Such, serving the sew-ers, knitters, and crafters of the village. Brightly colored holiday ribbons, soft knit hats, mittens, and a plump Mrs. Claus at an antique sewing machine, adorn her display windows. It reminds me of my mother and grandmother—their beautiful handmade gifts and crafts so lovingly created. Two older ladies with bright purple hats and matching scarves bustle out the door. The holiday-themed bags are filled with supplies for their next sewing project.
The clock-tower bells chime the hour with a deep, silvery gong. How time flies! There is more to see, so I head out into the bustling square.
Lunchtime!
Next stop, Lazzaro’s Deli. A prosciutto, ham, and Swiss cheese sandwich with a few swipes of golden mustard, thin-sliced red onion, a splash of balsamic and olive oil, just a touch, mind, and some plump grapes accompany me on a hike up the hill behind the village. There is a small grove of pines at the top where adventurous children haul their sleds and all varieties of hand-made sliding contraptions to fly down the slope—yelping, shouting, and having a splendid time. Freedom and flight!
Weathered pine picnic tables are scattered around the grove for year-round picnickers, each table with a view of the sledders and village below. What a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Memories pop up of climbing the hill at night with thermoses of hot cocoa and Baileys to look at the village adorned in Christmas lights. Spellbinding!
A quick brindle dog and large German Shepherd dash through the grove, pouncing and digging in the snow in search of the ball they have been fetching. While the dogs are busy, their owners pull out their picnic, hoping to get in a few bites before the ball is found. The dog-kicked and flung snow comes dangerously close to my table. Laughing, I take that as my signal to head back down the hill.
Crisp, pine-scented, wintry air tousles my hair, peeping out from under the beanie. Filling my lungs with the cold air is so invigorating! I’m alive and well on this wonderful day.
At the edge of the village, I change course and walk the lesser traveled side lanes. The snow drifts are deeper here but still navigable. The sun begins an early descent in the mountains, and the shadows grow longer. The fading, muted light is a bit eerie as clouds move in and hover lower in the winter sky. An unmistakable feeling of snow.
The quaint and tumbled houses are pretty with their covers of snow and puffing chimneys. Safe and homey. A group of children jostle out one of the doors and into the nearby field, pummeling each other with snowballs. Shouts and whoops of laughter break up the quiet.
Heading to the left, I follow the lane running along the banks of a stream. It passes from the hills through the village and out and beyond. Normally noisy and full of life, the quietening of winter renders it silent and still, as if in a deep and restful sleep. As I cross the sturdy stonework bridge spanning the iced-over stream, it broadens out into a wide, gentle lake frozen into the perfect ice-skating rink. Ordering a large hot cocoa from the festive concessions stand, I grab a seat on one of the nearby benches.
Dinnertime!
The Aberdeen Café and Mama’s Diner fill up with hungry shoppers and families who need a quick refuel and rest before ice skating begins. I’m happy I have half a sandwich left over from lunch. Trekking up and down the hill made me hungry. As the heat from the hot cocoa leaches into my chilly hands, I gaze around the square at the beautifully lit fir tree with its merry winking lights and lovely lit-up angel at the top. I imagine a dark starry night long ago when angels’ songs announced the arrival of Hope.
With dinner finished, the brave and adventurous head out onto the ice. They are all in top form! Some glide by with calm, happy smiles, while others slip along with mouths formed into a nervous O as they precariously zip and zing across the ice. There will be more than a few sore bums and knees before the night is over.
The village is festive and welcoming with its lovely lights and lit greenery. I hesitate to head home yet, but it’s been a long day. The coziness of my aunt and uncle’s cottage, with the crackling fire they will have blazing, beckons me to go on home.
Finishing the hot cocoa, I take another look at the cheerful shops and happy skaters. What a lovely day!
I scoop up my package from the curio shop and make my way along the darkening lane to the cottage. As I walk and breathe in the frigid night air, gentle snow begins to fall on the winter village. The large fluffy flakes are soft and gentle. So peaceful. I marvel at the way they flutter and float on the wintry night air, each going their own way. There is a deliberateness to the random way they descend and find their landing place. Each one with a specific spot that adds to the piling snow drifts—each one needed. I imagine the Creator’s joy and excitement as each one is uniquely crafted and thought out. Humanity isn’t so different from these beautiful snowflakes.
Turning onto Lakeview Lane, I pause to take in the cottage before heading inside. So lovely, the way it sparkles and winks, white lights outlining its edges and curves, smoke gently chuffing from the stone chimney. Inviting. Lovely memories of my day in the village are safely tucked away as snowy peace descends on the winter village.
My husband and I are empty-nesters and this year with my son in the military overseas and my daughter not having much time off, we decided to do something different and go camping. We love to be in the outdoors whether it be camping, hiking, beach days – if it’s outdoors, we enjoy it! So off we went to a campground we’d never been to before in the Redwoods. It was chilly, damp (so firewood was testy and finicky), and gets dark early especially deep in the trees. We watched DVDs when it was too dark and chilly to be outside, cozy and warm in the trailer.
If you have read any of my books, you KNOW that mountains and forests are my happy place. The hikes we took did not disappoint! The Redwoods were breathtakingly beautiful. I felt a deep peace gently fall on me as we hiked in the stillness. The muted, filtered light was magical and ethereal, the fog soaked forest floor felt spongy and tender under our boots. The tiny spider webs looked like elaborately woven lace as drops of mist clung to each strand. I could feel restoration wrapping me up as I breathed in that one of a kind forest air hiking with my husband, enjoying our time away from busy city life.
We spent aday in a coastal town that we love exploring the shops, buying our favorite homemade jam, and walking along the headlands breathing in the salty sea air. So fresh and clean. The ocean and setting sun didn’t disappoint either!
I am so thankful that we decided to get outside our “normal” and camp in the woods. It was cold, refreshing, invigorating, and a much needed time away for us to hike, laugh, and just be for a couple days. Pressures and stressors melted away for a bit. It was good for our souls. God always knows what we need, even when it looks different than what we always do. For that, I am so thankful.
Extravagant Hope 