We were kind of disappointed. The weather report promised blue skies and temperatures warm enough to keep the roads bare and dry. With a whole day off and an open road before us my friend and I drove to Creston, British Columbia to pick up a bed. Of course we brought our cameras. The thought of mountain peaks glistening in the sun and the wonderful long valley views had us all excited.

We left early and assumed the early morning fog would soon burn off when the sun rose fully above the mountains. By the time we carefully drove into the village of Moyie without yet seeing the lake the twisting road follows we knew this was not merely a foggy morning. It was going to be a foggy day. The roads were dry and bare, but we still had to slow down because of the poor visibility. This was going to take longer than we thought.

After we loaded the bed in the van we walked around a hilltop farm which usually has some of the most beautiful views in this part of the country. But not today. My friend and I talked about how we both took up photography as an exercise in a new way to see. It’s easy to take photos when the light is right and the scenery is marvellous. Looking for beauty on a dull, dreary day requires one to look more carefully. But there is always beauty somewhere. Sometimes it’s only to be found in the reflection of sky in a junkyard puddle. Beauty requires the open eyes of a a beholder.

She pointed out the little blue birdhouse to me. I pointed out the silver-roofed barn to her. The more we looked, the more we saw.

 

 

Being thankful is like that. This morning I woke up in pain. I had that dismal foreboding feeling that this is going to be a disappointing day. I gave up trying to sleep and toddled stiffly to my desk. I answered some emails and listened to music while looking for a song for someone.  Unexpectedly that act lifted my spirits as the cheerfulness of bluegrass  poured out of the speaker, still turned down low so as not to disturb my husband.

As I look out my window diagonal pink clouds of dawn streak the sky as if they have some place to go today. The kettle is boiling and soon there will be a mug of hot freshly ground and brewed coffee sitting beside my keyboard. I am reminded there is always something to be thankful for.

Some days we are overwhelmed by beauty and wonder. Some days we need to slow down and look for it. But there is always, always something to be thankful for.