Disappeared

Sometimes there is nothing more filling that wrapping up in a blanket, switching on a lamp, opening a book, and appreciating the stillness around you. I'm finding more and more comfort in solitude. Taking time in the morning to lay for five minutes and look out my window or just listen to the sound of the wind. To watch a single, individual leaf for one minute. To quietly enjoy the soft pillow beneath my head, the hum of the heater, and the safe stillness of the flowers in my quilt.

The early morning commute to town. My hands on the smooth steering wheel as I sip my morning coffee. I drive through the changing leaves, the surrounding red mountains. The smell of fall is everywhere. Intoxicatingly crisp but laced with decay. The smell of dying leaves and the brisk morning air. It's a delicious nutty fragrance. Crunchy green lawns blanketed with yellow leaves. Kids waiting at the bus stop with their tuba cases and skinny legs.

I've been experiencing such moments of beauty lately, that I am reminded of a quote from one of my favorite books. A boy tells his brother that he wishes he could get away for a while. That if life were a bolt of cloth he snip out all the scary nights, all the unpleasant dreams and take only the best experiences and weave them together into a coat. I wish I could do the same. I wish I could take all my most beautiful memories, stitch them together into a giant coat, drape it around me, and live happy always.