I can't divine within myself to find why everything seems to beautiful today. I don't know why my mind is reawakened . . . or do I? I hoped for this; I prayed for this!

We left a half hour later than we normally do, so I saw the sun rise not from walking outside, but from the slits in my shuttered windows; dark morning blue to a twixtlight aqueous ether to something at last aerial and dawn-like. The air was still faintly blue (you know how it feels when you seem to be walking and seeing things underwater?) when we went outside.

It was Windy.

The grey-green of every leaf on every tree and the dark dust of bark on the bare trees just made me pause, they were so very exquisite. I suppose it may become a blustery afternoon if the clouds turn out right:) The Cold did not freeze my lungs and make me cringe into the warmth but let me relish the cleansing of my face and neck; I could breathe it, pull it past my throat into my lungs where it acted like some kind of drug. Tired and awake and feeling alive and at peace.

I can't help but smile at the way the light of the sun was breathing over the clouds as I rode the 'bus this morning, the way the silhouetted mountains were guarding me.

Now I've got sigur ros () on and I am filled with a kind of contentment that you can't get any other way than as a gift. My head knows this isn't right, my head screams to let the rest of me know that I'm fooling myself, that life will continue like it always has.

And it will.

But these are the moments that strengthen and defend me. I think I understand, now, what it feels like to be enfolded by the wings of God . . .