In sweet slumber, dreams waft in and out. It’s a warm summer day and daisies bow on the breeze. A flicker swoops from the tall evergreen, a hummingbird zips above the window box, thirsty for nectar the fuschia offers.
Each dawn brings a new day. We wake, sometimes to a sky lit pink as the sun rises from behind the Cascades, sometimes to a sodden gray as clouds cloak our mountain range and drench the green we’re so famous for. But each new day holds a promise. All of the old sayings might ring as cliché, but they truly are based on facts, even as they are repeated by the ‘old wives’. Silver linings and bright sides are sometimes just what we need to push forward, and who’s to fault that optimism?
The promise of our children and grandchildren, their brightness and hope, is really what it’s all about. I think of times spent with my grandma, around the picnic table, shelling peas or shucking corn. We had her old radio tuned to KWYZ, the staticy music kept us company. My kids ran to the barn and jumped in the hay, chased barn kittens and picked apples. Our world was hemmed in by the Snohomish river to the west and Mt Baker to the north. Our worries were uncomplicated, would there be another picking before the frost?
Time passes. Grandma’s die and kids grow up. The world turns and the dawn break. That truly is the promise, isn’t it? Long after I am gone, the tides will ebb and flow, life will go on. So today, I will live fully and with intent. We can all aspire to do so. So let’s draw kitten whiskers on our cheeks, put on our super~hero masks, get a good night sleep and dream of a bright tomorrow.