Moose Morning

This morning a Mama moose took her two calves for a walk. While standing at my window sipping my first coffee of the day, I saw them ambling leisurely past my house as the sun rose orange in the sky. I grabbed my camera, slid my bare feet into boots, and hastily ran outdoors.

I saw several people out doing the same as I was … all of us in various states of dress and undress. I didn’t feel my icy feet or the chill on my arms. I basked in the warmth of the shapeless dark revealing this gift just as the dawning light became articulate in the variant form of things.

When I came back into the house, the phone was ringing. It was Ariana, my six year old granddaughter, calling from Edmonton jubilant because she had just lost her first tooth. “Nana, the tooth fairy brought me a twonie!” A small milestone achieved and I delight in her joy.

There is more than a thousand years between me and Yuan Mei, the Chinese poet I am presently reading. Yet, he seems as close as my neighbour. We have shared the same sorrows and the same small delights. The same human comedy hails and embraces us both. The commonplace makes us sing.