A continuation of the journey that began on January 1, 2010, recorded in "a year of getting up to meet the day." After 365 consecutive sunrise outings in that year, I couldn't bear to give up the dawn. This blog (no longer daily) will be informed and inspired by the rising light of the morning sun.


Friday, January 14, 2011

forever makes it harder

sunrise:  7:10

I've been trying to find my stride.  Now that the framework of daily sunrise walks is off my to do list, it seems that my life's schedule has gone chaotic.  Many days I'm up early-ish, but the stretch and walk and write routine loses out to other errands of the day.  Or maybe it's just the fact that it's much easier to sit in the kitchen, drink coffee, and read the newspaper.

 yesterday's thermometer

I know - we should all have such terrible problems.  I have no excuse, really, except apathy.  It was great to set a one year goal - up and out for sunrise every day.  My intention of doing it once in a while doesn't seem to be panning out.  To decide that I'm going to do it every day again, from now on, forever, feels impossible.  I'll have to continue seeking a regimen that will push through laziness - harder than I thought.

My tenth weekly column is in today's paper.  Very exciting, though it is another new adjustment - these weekly deadlines.  They, too, are good for me and may help me find that magic life routine that I've been searching for.  A writing life takes a lot more self-discipline than I've had to summon in the past.


Anyway - it was wonderful to be back out there this morning.  The whiteness of the world after Wednesday's new foot of snow is glorious.  You can tell that it was a northern wind blowing the storm in - all of the white highlights on the trees are on the northern side.

The deep snow has driven more deer into the back yard too.  You can see their tell-tale two-toed tracks through the snow.

They have been gathering under the wild apple trees for a meal.  Clara and Guster were working pretty hard to get some apples for themselves, but Kate is at her usual post with a stick.

No visible sun to see, but a beautiful light show infused the morning cloud cover.

1 comment:

  1. To hear you talk about apathy and laziness is like hearing you speak in a foreign language -- I mostly do NOT get it! But -- it is also reassuring. I worry constantly about the grip of apathy and the lure of laziness -- but if my lively sun-riser-blogger can talk about it, perhaps I'm not as bad as I thought!