My garden is getting ahead of itself. The hellebore is blooming well in advance. Shy flowers, dripping with rain, gaze at the ground and I kneel on the damp ground to photograph them.
We've had two frosty mornings this week, separated by one day of rain. If the two weather systems collided, perhaps we would get the snow I wish for.
Meanwhile, I venture outside just as the sun trudges reluctantly up the sky. Frost-edged hydrangeas draw my camera's attention.
In this season, where Nature slumbers, I keep a quiet Advent in my heart. Days are filled with lessons, recalcitrant students, sewing projects, and things I'd like to accomplish. How then, in the midst of busyness, do I hem my days with quietness?
It's not easy when everything around me says, "do, do, do," and "rush, rush, rush." I make my lists, trying to be realistic about what I can accomplish, and I build in time to read, to sew, to go for walks. Yes, there will be things left undone, but the important work of waiting in hope as the days darken, as I wait for the Light, literally and spiritually, draws me irresistibly to quiet my heart, if not my hands.
The first week of Advent and the first day of December are nearly over. Each day is precious. Like my garden, each day can be quietly beautiful.
Five glimpses of life here today for a linkup to Amy's Five on Friday.