In Search of Wonder
“Behold this day – for it is yours to make.”
― Black Elk
The last days of the last month turn the final pages of the book of 2024. This is an interesting time for me, a strange time – one of joy because of the holiday season and family gatherings, but also one of introspection as I seek to tally accomplishments and lessons learned in the past twelve months. Do you do that? Do you think to yourself, “What was good, what was bad? What can I celebrate? What can I do differently?” Do you think about regrets in order to learn a vital thing? Do you allow yourself to feel satisfied and pleased with the things that went well?
It’s a tender time, a holy time, this time between the years, slowly ticking toward a different energy, a newness that can feel like an open page, stark and blank, ready to be filled. That can feel delightful, intimidating, or both, but it comes to us regardless of whether we’re ready. The new year will simp;y come. I’ll welcome it when it arrives, but for now, I’m rocking to sleep the final light of a different year. I’m singing it a lullaby.
I’m at my most reflective and pensive when I’m hiking or exploring the woods. All the thoughts come out of hiding when the trees guard and shelter me. My mind can settle and relax. All the words my brain has kept clenched in a fist can now float in the cool, damp December air.
Recently, as I walked, a rounded a turn on the trail to climb a short hill. I lifted my face to gaze at the top and saw something that made me stop in my tracks. The hill was covered with frost flowers.
If you’re not familiar with this lovely phenomenon, let me offer you a lesson in atmospheric science. Frost flowers are thin layers of ice that extrude through slits in the stems of certain plants. Their formation requires freezing air temperature, soil that is moist or wet but not frozen, and a plant’s stem that has not been previously frozen. The water in the plant’s stem is drawn upward by capillary action from the ground. It expands as it freezes, splits the stem vertically, and freezes upon contact with the air. As more water is drawn from the ground through the slit, a paper-thin ice layer pushes outward. The length of the split determines if the frost flower has a narrow or wide ribbon of ice. It curls unpredictably and forms “petals.” These flowers, no two of which are alike, are fragile and last only hours. If you try to hold one, it crumbles in your hand.
I’ve seen frost flowers before, but never a field of them. I stood in complete amazement. I basked in the wonder of it all. I felt gratitude for the gift of this scene and the effect it had on my heart, and then I thought about the gift of 2024 and the days of wonder contained in the year – the lessons, the struggles, the decisions, the tenderness, the beauty, the changes. It all washed over me. In the crisp morning air, another thought rose out of the earth and settled in my mind.
These last days of 2024 are precious. In fact, every day of 2024 held something unique and wondrous. Every day was an opportunity to learn or witness or grow. I might have missed my chance on many days, so caught up was I in my own story, but I don’t have to miss any more days. I can find the flowers in my life and circumstances if I take a moment to welcome them. There are a few more days in 2024 to do just that.
And then a whole new year of wonder is waiting around the corner. Let me see what I can do with it. Let’s see what we all can do with it.
Blessings,
Sandy