Yesterday morning, early, I sat in a chair looking out the window waiting for the day’s light to emerge. I knew the lake was out there and that the ice houses had spent the night being refrozen in place by the night’s cold temperatures. During the day the balmy temps and glaring sun and created little moats around the tiny structures. But I trusted that the colder airs of nighttime had glued them safely once again to the lake’s frozen surface. Blackness was all that I could see.
At some point of the night I had been awakened with the feeling that I had perhaps overslept. It was so light in my room. I thought it must be morning. But as I shook the sleep from my head and groped for consciousness, I saw it was the nearly full moon that was shining brightly through my window. I moved the pillows around in my retreat center bed and situated myself in the wash of its rays. It was a powerfully primal experience. Like those ancients who had known only the stars and moon as their canopy, I now found myself in their company. After some time, I must have fallen asleep once again, held in the waxing whiteness of the winter moon.
Hours layer I sat, waiting for the light to come once again to the morning sky. Slowly the blackness began to turn to a deep blue. The outlines of the enormous oak trees, naked in their February state, slipped into the vision of the landscape. As the light emerged, shadows took form and I saw the tiny wooden houses take become visible once again. I watched as the day began. I could now make out the cars and trucks parked beside the ice houses confirming once again that there are people so much braver than I.
To watch a day arrive is a gift. I am happy to say that it was not a gift that was lost on me. I breathed in its pure possibility. I offered prayers for those things I believed the day would hold and also for those that would surprise me. Someplace, in the recesses of mind the scripture echoed: This is the day God has made. Rejoice!
And I felt the truth of that statement, and that command, at some very deep place within.
These days, it is available in several formats and can be purchased at the school’s athletic office, at Barefoot Athletics or at the dexter missouri hotels Courthouse. Walnut Springs resident Matt Collins and his mother, Sharla, and sister Ashlee have all said they have witnessed bright lights in the sky and saw these lights and I was laughing.