Saturday, May 22, 2010


It's my favorite time of the day when the sun hasn't yet set. There's perhaps another hour of daylight left. The cloudless sky mutes itself, drawing back its rays of light so that you can really see the leaves, rich in their greenness. The pinks of faded cherry blossoms, the auburn of seedlings scattered on sidewalks, their colors pop in the approaching dusk.

It's the liminal part of the day, the threshold between activity and rest. The work day ends, ushering in the evening, and the pace slackens.

The mind unfetters, letting daytime's clear-eyed logic fall away. Its surface, no longer ruffled by the predictable waves of logic, now lies calm. It is open - expectant. Perhaps, it is the light, luminous and soft, that imbues the mind with this openness. I wait, my breath is bated.

The house is quiet; today, it is enshrouded in fog. A bit of yellowed light filters in through the kitchen window as I stand there making matcha.

I carry the bowl of the steaming liquid to my well-favored spot in the house. The cats follow, arranging themselves near me. My mind lies open, ready to receive. Seen through an impressionistic lens, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.


Marilyn said...

I love your last comment, "the ordinary becomes the extraordinary".
Lovely what a cup of tea and a special spot to sit near our pets can do.

Cha sen said...


So true. Having that cup of tea and my two cats nearby, it's one of life's pleasures.

G. Rudner said...

Glad that when I hit my bookmarked favourites that there was this latest update. A real blessing to have that water view so close, although I strongly suspect that a few chunks of ice are still milling about.

Cha sen said...


The weather around here is pretty crazy at this time of the year - recently, a thirty degrees drop overnight from the 80s melted any snow that may have been lurking around!