The Thousand Faces of the Day

This morning I got up at 5 and lit the wood stove. It feels vaguely remenisent of camping. Although it is charming and the heat has a lovely dry quality I have mixed feelings about the stove. Almost everyone on the islands has a wood stove which comes in handy during the power outages that are part of winter here. Trees, wind, rain, not too surprising. A recipe for firewood.

The stove is pretty much standard in island homes and is used either has a primary or secondary heat source. But doesn't the use of wood contribute to the depletion of the ozone layer? It feels like a guilty pleasure as I take the chill off the morning. Is electric heat any more or less environmentally friendly? I know a lot of the wood used in the stoves is windfall or scrub so islanders are not wacking down forests of doug fir for our heating pleasure. But I am thinking about the smoke wafting its way skyward.

The radishes we planted last week are poking their cute little green heads up and the lettuce transplants are enjoying the rain that has been falling for the last few days. We have been feasting on what's left of the winter veggies in the garden, enjoying the 20 ft diet. Just outside our door is kale, cauliflower, parsley, purple sprouting broccoli, cilantro and onions for our dining pleasure. The asparagus are still only poking their heads up just a little. We have planted more food and watch anxiously for its debut.

We are living without TV here. It used to be a big fall back for me in the evening. If I was tired or lonely the TV was easy company. I love the home & garden design shows, a personal addiction. But there was a vaguely unsatisfying element to it, kind of like eating junk food; tastes good, feels bad. Instead of me consuming the junk food, my evenings were consumed by the glow of the TV screen. I'm doing the cold turkey here. At first I was so tired that I'd fall asleep on the couch cradling a book. I have also noticed that as I sit and watch the darkening landscape a feeling of melancholy, of antstyness settles on me. Some of the feeling I avoided in my TV watching? Is it universally human to feel a bit dark as the earth darkens or is it peculiar to my particular karmic package? I notice this feeling as the light dims and then when the dark sets and I can no longer see the landscape, my mood shifts. If I had no electricity I'd probably head off to bed. But I'm not that back to nature yet.

So we are living here a little closer to the earth, closer to the rhythm of the day, more connected to the outdoors. I get to watch the thousand faces of the day, how the clouds change and the fog and rain move in and out, how it can be blue skied at 6 am and raining by noon. A front row seat for the impermanence show. The shifting moving nature of the weather and how it affects landscape and moods is ever apparent. And out the picture window it looks like a Tony Onley painting. I don't think anyone has captured this coastal landscape in the brilliant way he did, ethereal and dreamy and yet true to form.