Waking up to the sound of the telephone ringing, I sauntered over to the little balcony in our bedroom overlooking the tiny woods in my backyard. The windy morning was beautiful. Yellow leaves floating gracefully to our wet deck. The smell of rain. A fog in the making.
I realized with a smile that it was five years to the day we moved in. The charm of a new home worn away to be replaced by a warmth and familiarity etched from everyday events. Watching the seasons change for the umpteenth time since we moved I was touched by the beauty that surrounds me.
A Saturday morning like every other, I sit sipping on my coffee, chatting with Amma. Nothing is different yet everything seems to be tinged with newness. It’s the time of the year I conclude when old gives way to nothingness and then we wait for Spring. For life to begin. All over again.