April 11 & 12, 2009 - i am never alone.

Early morning, sitting on an adirondak chair on the deck of the off-season-empty lodge, drizzlie, chilly, delicioiusly mine. Something tinier than a bird and bigger than a bug with a terrifyingly wicked buzz keeps darting by me. It startles then delights me every time. A robin is running straight toward me in the mulch on my right. She stops to check me out, head tilting this way, then that, between ground pecks. I think I'm sitting where the producers of those meditation tracks got their background nature sounds. Ittie-bittie squirrel just jumped up on the porch to say hello. I've never seen one so tiny and sweet faced.

I am never alone.

In the stream behind the cottage, I practice sending my thoughts to float away on brown leaves as I try to clear my mind. I look up and notice two deer across the water, and three on my side, frighteningly close to me. They are serious and steady and they belong to this spot. They allow me to stay. I thank them, reflecting their reverence. I am never alone.

Easter Sunday Morning: It rained on the roof all night. Every time I woke up, the sound of it tapping on the tin of this FDR cabin put me right back to sleep. I am never alone.

The rest of this day is filled with family joy. We color and play cards for candy. We eat weird things, chase ducks in the rain, and face the dramas that come with crazy-close quarters. I stay grounded and full of peace in the gratitude that comes from the knowledge that I will never be alone.