Frost on the Boat

 

More often I post pictures of this view, across from our side of the channel, at sunset. But this morning's sunrise on clouds, all reflected in the still water, makes me want to share with you what greets me this morning. This is taken from our kitchen window.

You can't see it from here, but -- there's frost on the boat this morning.

Here, I'll give you a close up.

Yup. It's now officially "after Thanksgiving."
And I'm still glad to be here.

It's definitely on the cooler side of things yesterday and today. My phone's weather app says "4 feels like -1" and I'd have to agree. We're all warm and cozy under the blankets all night, so no problems there. It's that transition from pj's to clothes, and the waiting for the main room to warm up after the fire's on.

For some cottagers who are here all year, or at least for three full seasons, this is all a familiar part of the experience. But for us, who have all our lives closed up before the end of September, we are just now stepping into new ways of cottage life that are fresh (pun intended) and fun.

I mean, just look at those colours! If I step out on our deck and point the camera just a little to the right. Stunning!

And it strikes me that all of this is only happening because something else we wanted to happen hasn't happened yet. That if plans had gone according to plan we would have planned to be gone by now. I'd be missing all this.

And not just the experience of stunning October skies, and frost on the boat, and valiant efforts to keep ourselves warm. I'd be missing the prolonged solitude, the extra times around the island in the kayak, and the chance to really get at some of those more tedious little projects on the property.

More importantly, I'd be missing the sense of being absent from loved ones that only serves to reaffirm affections, and the enormous place they have in my life.

And most importantly, I'd be missing the opportunity to experience that place of deeper intimacy with God that only those faith-pressing spaces can provide. Spaces of uncertainty. Spaces of waiting. Spaces of not knowing how the story will go, but trusting the One who invites me to co-author it with Him.

So here we go into yet another spectacular week, shortened for most of us. I hear the weekend is supposed to warm up a bit, which will be great for getting back out onto the deck.

Hope whatever is ahead of you today is full of fresh and fun possibilities!!!