Rusty's Armory

“Christmas Morning Whispers: A Gentle Reflection on Miracles and Routine”

Posted on December 25, 2023

Ah, Christmas morning unfurls its quiet splendor as the sun ascends, casting a colossal, deep orange orb that morphs into golden rays, painting the landscape in a gentle glow. Nature, too, plays its part – the Bermuda grass slumbers in dormancy while the resolute rye and buffalo grasses persist in their verdant embrace. The anticipation of a killing frost lingers, a pause in the rhythm of the seasons.

Yet, amid this picturesque tableau, a quiet melancholy tinges the day. Christmas, once a tapestry of tradition and mystique, has undergone a transformation in the prism of personal observance. No longer a participant in the customary festivities, there’s a careful acknowledgment of the sanctity others find in this day.

The reminiscence of childhood Christmases resurfaces – the balsamic aroma of the fir tree intermingling with the sweetness of peppermint candy, the parlor radiating warmth against the backdrop of the bitter Colorado winter. Those were days of enchantment, a memory bank that contrasts with the present.

The morning unfolds, marked by the early rise of Snook. Her tenacious spirit, a long-standing companion, grapples with the aftermath of a stroke. Distinguishing between the commonalities of aging and the stroke’s impact becomes a nuanced task, but there’s a glimmer of hope in the signs of improvement. Snook, a formidable force, has weathered recent bouts of bedridden respite, a stark departure from her indomitable routine.

Normalcy tentatively weaves its way into the day. Post-morning coffee rituals, I retreat to the studio – a sanctuary where news, correspondence, and sporadic bouts of writing converge. The brevity of my morning musings hints at a shift, a departure from the verbose journaling of yesteryears. Perhaps brevity holds its own charm, encapsulating the profound in succinct expressions.

Every sunrise heralds a miracle – the daily rhythm of medications, coffee rituals, and the embrace of the writing muse. In the routine, there’s an inherent miracle, an acknowledgment of the gift of another day.

To those cherishing the day’s special aura, may it unfurl in all its uniqueness. For those deeming it akin to any other day, may its specialness find you in unexpected moments. Good morning to all.