Our last night at the Lake House this winter, and I sit by the fire, listening to Mozart, drinking a last cup of tea, gazing around the room, feasting my eyes one more time on the dancing flames, the painting of the Tree of Life above the fireplace, the Marcia Perry statue of Ariadne across the room, the shelves of books---old friends, all of them. It feels strangely like leaving an old friend to leave this house. It holds so many memories of heart to heart talks with family and friends, laughter and tears, gatherings and partings, hours of delicious solitude, communion, and creativity.
Today as I packed and prepared the house for its winter hibernation, I feasted my eyes on the splashing of huge waves up against the growing ice-bergs, and the way the bare trees outside the window carved up the cloudy sky into intricate shapes. I consoled myself with the thought that I could return to these sights, to this place, in memory, any time I wanted to.
Yet, all the while, a part of my heart is singing as it looks forward to being in Sedona tomorrow night.....maybe in time for sunset over the majestic red rocks, and certainly in time to stand again in awe under the brilliant designs of stars in the night sky, breathing the pine-scented air of the high desert.
Last night.....good night......parting is such sweet sorrow......yet I fly from one home of the heart to another, and live in Beauty, blessed beyond my highest hopes. My love and gratitude for the Lake house and the Mountain house weave a web of connection between them, and in that web are caught all the memories I treasure.
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