“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
― Sarah Williams
I like that hour between dusk and darkness. When I walk in my kitchen, there are shadows and light still dancing across the surfaces. I like to stand in the doorway and watch them fade.
I think maybe I would have been happy in a simple shack in the woods. I would fill pots with flowers and herbs. I would hang wind chimes and let the wind and weather choose when to make them dance.
Just me and animals and the woods. Trees arching overhead. I would walk the dirt road in search of interesting rocks to put around my garden pots, a simple bit of art that blends with nature.
I would sit on the porch (because I would have to have a front porch) and watch the birds flit from tree to tree. Their singing would mix with the sound of the wind chimes and create lovely melodies. I can’t imagine anything more beautiful.
I would have cats and dogs and chickens out there in the deep dark woods. I would enjoy fresh eggs and the cluck-clucking of the hens as they drifted around the house, scratching nonsense in the dirt.
My simple square home, one big room, would have a window on each wall to let in light for my indoor plants. I would have simple floors and wooden walls, maybe made of knotty pine.
I would not have a TV, just a radio to hear news and weather should I choose to know of the goings-on in the world. I would hang my quilts on the wall for that blast of color I need.
My knick-knacks would be things I found in the woods while walking, the animals following close on my heels.
A simple life. Unfettered.
I would sit in a rocking chair and watch the sun come up and go down. Watch the ghostly outdoor shapes take on definition. Watch the leaves fall and then fluff out again come springtime.
There would be the noise of the woodlands. The natural order of things. The way things are and have always been.
Happiness is a mindset. A way of holding life in the palm of your hand and weighing what is necessary. What is not. What is good and what is not. What is beauty and what is not.
Contentment is standing and enjoying the shadows change and darken in your kitchen. It is seeing the little everyday things in a whole new light.
Happiness is being alone and not feeling lonely. It is the birds perching in the trees building nests and spiders weaving beautifully intricate webs.
It is not wanting too much. The wanting makes life more complicated than it has to be.
Happiness is cool water cupped in our hands, the way it feels when we splash it on our face.
It is standing in the rain and dancing round and round, leaves and sticks crunching beneath our feet.
The shadows in my kitchen have disappeared now. I am enveloped in darkness.
I walk to the patio doors, knowing every shape in front of me. The only light is what I see through the fence slats of the neighbor’s place behind me.
Night has fallen. The dying, dying of the light.
“The sky grew darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of night.”
― Haruki Murakami,