Little Things

Thu, 01/16/2025 - 15:38

Some days are easy and full of light. The weather is not too hot or too cold. The winds are calm. The air is sweet, and full of bird song or an occasional high flying airplane. There is a new bloom on the rose bush, or a bright dandelion in the grass. The coffee maker is rumbling away or the teakettle is about to sing.

There haven’t been a lot of those lately. Not here. California has been burning. Too close for comfort, too tragic for so many. The air has been robbed of all moisture, coming in cold from the northeast desert. The wind has been punishing, brutal, pushing the fires where it will, feeding the flames, eating everything in its path, greedy for more. Communities have been fire bombed and in such weather that the fires are almost impossible to extinguish. Entire neighborhoods are gone.

We watched in horror, in awe, breathless with anxiety. Adrenalin overload is high when these winds blow, even if there are no fires to fight. The madness of the winds can indeed push some of us too close to the edge. Phone alerts to get ready to evacuate started. First it was all of Los Angeles, then oops no wrong area don’t panic, then defined areas with different zones: one to get ready, two to go. You get the drift.

Fortunately most were successfully evacuated and people and their animals were safe. Homeless, but safe. Tragically some were caught and lost to us. Still the winds raged, the fire burned, the air full of smoke and ash and flame.

Today is calmer. Fires are contained, not a present threat, but not completely out, either. The air where I am is clear. The magnolia tree has popped beautiful pink blooms even through all the wind and dryness. Miracle. A new rose appeared, luscious peachy color. Yellow margarites dot the bush in the front yard. We are so grateful.

Today I am especially thankful for my home, my homely things. The little chipped jug with tiny white alyssum flowers, the old fashioned clock, the handkerchief box my Dad made for my grandmother when he was only a kid. None of these things are valuable except for sentimental reasons. But so many have lost the same kind of things that are irreplaceable. An heirloom can be anything, it doesn’t have to have monetary value. I am so sorry about that kind of loss. If you know anyone who has lost every thing they owned, send them what you can. Prayers and positive thoughts, certainly, but let them know that you have pictures or memorabilia from birthdays or weddings that you can give them when they are ready. We can help fill some of the holes, and it will cost us little. The homely things help so maybe we can embroider a dishtowel or knit a tea cozy or a hat, or sew some doll clothes, bake a cake or a loaf of bread.

I know all of that seems like little to offer. But sometimes it’s just those little things that comfort the soul. At least that is true for me, especially on this day, in these times

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