An Ordinary Day

Life at the cottage is lived at such a leisurely pace that when I hit a week like the one currently underway I feel the desire to dig a deep hole and crawl into it.

It began on Sunday when we packed our bags for Michigan.  It continued yesterday with a trip to Pittsburgh for a baseball game.  It won't end until Friday evening after celebrating a 94th birthday and passing the day visiting long term care health facilities with my sister.  It may not sound like a lot to you but for me, the schedule is brutal.

I didn't realize how very much my life has changed until recently.  Every morning I awaken to the sound of bird song.  I sip my first cup of coffee in solitude on the porch facing the lake and watch as the inhabitants of our little cove come to life.  My companions are squirrels, geese, chipmunks, wild turkeys, groundhogs, an occasional white tail, and Henrietta, our resident blue heron.   The hours are passed checking the progress of the peppers and tomatoes sprouting in my garden, pulling an errant weed, monitoring the eggs in the wren's nest that is tucked neatly into the hanging basket on the front porch and observing the humming birds that flit in and out all day to quench their thirst.   It seems I am no longer equipped to deal with the hustle and bustle of going and doing day in and day out.

This shift in life style began four years ago with retirement and was consummated the day we signed the papers for the little red cottage.  Who could have imagined that 900 square feet on a quiet fishing lake one half mile down a country lane in rural Pennsylvania would bring such peace and contentment to my life?

Recently a friend loaned me a copy of "The Gift of an Ordinary Day" authored by Katrina Kenison.  Within its pages I found myself.  And a reminder that what truly matters is the ordinary.  The voice of a friend; the feel of moist earth on my fingertips; the companionship of the one I love; a walk with the dog; the smell of dinner cooking in the oven; the honking of the geese feeding along the shore.

My days of going and doing for the sake of being busy are behind me.  I have embraced life in a 60 year old cottage on a quiet lake with barely room enough to turn around.  I have discovered the gift of an ordinary day, which is that it isn't ordinary at all.  It is extraordinary.