The Fox at Dawn


Morning Grace 3.10.22
March 10, 2022, 9:06 pm
Filed under: Faith, Teaching, Uncategorized | Tags: , , ,

March 10th 2022

“The Calle Florida, roughly equivalent to London’s Bond street but more the width of Wall Street, may well have been one of the prides of Buenos Aires…..but it was not a main attraction to a man in love with the open sky” Stacy Schiff wrote in her biography of Saint-Exupery. It has set me thinking.

This world. This sweet old world.

I’m in love with creeks and unexpected waterfalls, rocks sculpted by time and water.

I’m in love with birds, their songs, their flights, their total lack of concern with me.

I’m in love with the fox, the hidden den, the jubilance of kits rough tumbling in the spring grass.

I’m in love with the voice of the owl.

I’m in love with how a snowfall can blanket the world with beauty and peace.

I’m in love with how flowers push their way up through the winter mud to bloom long before it seems possible.

I‘m in love with music and how the human voice can contain the universe.

I’m in love with the infectious glee of a baby’s laugh.

I’m in love with fresh sheets on a well-made bed.

I’m in love with the miracle of homemade ice cream, with blueberry picking in the early summer, with maple syrup made from trees I am standing under.

I’m in love with my fountain pen.

I’m in love with the sudden summer storm that changes everything.

I’m in love with Orion wheeling across the winter sky and the moon in all her phases.

I’m in love with bookstores and cemeteries, with a sailing ship that sits proud and brave on the bottom of a frozen sea.

I’m in love with a picnic table in the Little Wood where I write by lantern light before the dawn.

Ukraine.

Driving to school, I listen to the news. The bombing of the maternity hospital, the escape routes cut off, the soulless attacks on Ukrainian civilians. The world wrings its helpless hands in witness. I sit now in the peace of my classroom getting ready for the cheerful rush of children. The sun rises from behind the winter trees and I hear only the sounds of the school waking up. Ukraine, I send this morning grace to you.

My classroom.

4 Comments so far
Leave a comment

As always, so beautifully expressed. Thank you for reminding me of all the good when we’re inundated with all the brokenness—Ukraine, Texas, Florida, etc. My omnipresent anxiety precludes so many employment options so I’m nannying a 5 month old. I’m so grateful to be “forced” to smile and coo—the “acting as if” is stabilizing when little else works. With deepest gratitude, Martha (aka Smash once upon a simpler time.)

Comment by Martha HP

Much love to you dear Smash. It’s an anxious time, every year compounded. Thank you so much for reading, and for reaching out. May that baby’s laugh bring you joy!

Comment by Loren Crawford

Beautiful, as always, Loren. Your classroom looks like a haven.

Comment by Gita Donovan

Thank you Gita. And you’re right! It is a haven- for both me and my kids. It’s a cheerful little world in here.

Comment by Loren Crawford




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