Happiness

Happiness is not a station to arrive at, but a manner of traveling.  ~Margaret Lee Runbeck

The gorgeous fall colors light up the mountains, and clouds drift above them, grey clumps against a pastel blue sky. It is getting toward dusk, which used to be my favorite time of day. I realize I hardly ever take time to really see it anymore. And yet these moments ground me, remind me that life is good.

For a time, I made a practice of gratitude. There is always something to be thankful for. And today I am happy to have health and to live surrounded by the natural world. I’m reminded of a poem I wrote on seeing a rainbow over these hills.

Rainbow

It is easy to see where each foot lies;
one at the base of Chestnut Knob,
one at the end of Cedar Ridge.
Tinting trees and rocks, it arches
over our dailiness, still and rooted.
Beauty, being for its own sake,
flickers in and out with the sun,
with God, then disappears.

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