Looking for the Good in the Not so Great Days

Today has not been my favorite day. Last night my body gave up the fight against the cold that had been threatening for days and this morning I'm feeling the full effect. My neighbor has literally lost his mind resulting in frustration and interrupted sleep thanks to his music and yelling at all hours of the day and night. And the combination of these two things have left me feeling rather gloomy.

Right now, I want nothing more then to be home in my new coffee pjs, wrapped up in blankets, and curled up with my cats, reading and drinking hot tea. (Of course with my neighbor the way he is right now that may or may not be as relaxing as it sounds) I don't like being in this frame of mind so when it happens I remind myself of the things I have and am grateful for, and look for something beautiful to lift my spirits.

So what am I grateful for? Today's random list includes: the book I'm currently reading "The Midwife of Hope River", pumpkin oatmeal, fleece blankets, cinnamon and nutmeg spices (especially when left to simmer on the stove), my cinnamon apple spice tea,  Synge's bill of perfect health she got from the vet yesterday, and Shakespeare plays. 

As for the something beautiful, I'm choosing a poem about my favorite season - autumn. I found this on Oatgasm one of my new favorite food blogs and it's author (who wrote this poem) has such a wonderful way of looking at the world....

On the eve of autumn, comes a woman of the earth

Her hands spread ancient wisdom, her touch gives grave and birth

With the grace of the season, she descends upon the land

Breathing life into the breeze and turning leaves by hand

Her eyes are made of sapphire, with a rippling ocean stare

As if she soaked up all the sky and left it white and bare

Her body cloaked in ivy lace, her hair let loose like vines

Her skin is dark and aging, like red autumnal wine

She wears a perfect perfume, of leaves and morning light

Mixed with sun drops in the day, and silver stars by night

She is the very reason wolves will howl by the pack

Even though they know the moon will never howl back

You’d be lucky, if you caught her, for she seldom makes a sound

Save the quiet crackle of her feet against the ground

If you listen quietly, you might hear her call

And only then will you know that summer’s faded into fall.

Have you seen the girl with a crown on her head

Made of forests and brambles and leaves burning red?

In springtime she beckons to the light of the sun

And in autumn she trembles as the leaves come undone

Her skin glows a sunset and her eyes a bright gleam

When she walks, in her path, grows a rich shade of green

From her hands grow blossoms and her feet grow roots

Verdant life seems to spring in every wake of her foot

You’ll know she is sad when from the heavens it rains

For she holds all the oceans inside of her veins

If you see your rippling reflection in the mirror of a pond

You’ll know she is smiling at you from beyond

Her voice can be heard in the first silence of spring

Or in autumn when the meadowlark ceases to sing

And if you listen carefully, she might just let you know

What sort of secrets on today she’ll bestow.