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A Sunrise Bushwalk and Tugboat Days

“The woods call to us with a hundred voices…”  L.M. Montgomery

Hi lovelies! I’m writing you today from my sickbed where I’ve been hunkering down for the past couple of days as I weather the latest virus to come my way. Good heavens. 🙂 I cannot wait for the day that my dear ol’ self does NOT put out the welcome mat for every illness that moseys past.

Before this latest beastie invaded, I was feeling better and stronger by the day. And one glorious but cold morning I hopped out of bed before sunrise, determined to watch the sun come up from the woods behind our house.

I bundled up to the hilt, grabbed my camera and called my dog Luna and headed out through the fields just as the sun inched over the horizon.

One moment the world was gray and shadowed and the next it was a golden fairy land.

I kept stopping in my tracks and sighing happily. I still can’t believe that this is my home, my very own spot in this world. How I love it.

The light dazzled my eyes and buoyed my spirits. The exertion soon made the cold a fleeting memory and each intake of breath was clean, crisp, and invigorating.

Luna was in heaven, leaping and dashing about, startling kangaroos, wriggling with happiness every time she raced back to me.

Soon I reached the shelter of the bush.

It was exquisitely peaceful in there, quiet and solemn as each dip and hollow awaited the arrival of the sun.

I loved being just one step ahead of the sunrise, watching the golden light slip around tree trunks and through grasses.

Some moments of illumination glowed so brightly I felt like I was in a different world. I wouldn’t have been one bit surprised to see fairies dancing or woodland creatures sitting down to a morning cuppa.

I hiked down to the dark part of the bush and settled myself down against a fallen log to watch the sun rise over this last bit of darkness.

It was lovely sitting there in the shadows, alone in the forest, with time to think about things that sometimes get shunted to the side in the busyness of feeding goats and writing articles and trying to keep on top of laundry and new recipes and medieval projects.

I know I won’t always be sickly (at least I hope not!!), but I am now, and I’m finally in a place of peace about that. It’s OK to be a slow-mover, a tugboat, as my friend Mozzie calls it. Now is not a time for grand plans and massive to-do lists. Nope, these are Tugboat Days where I focus on one thing at a time.

Just one.

That’s how I get through each day – especially the awful, pain-filled ones – I just do one thing. I put away the dishes Bear washed. Then rest. I put the fixings for curry in the crock pot. Then rest. Write an article, rest, edit photos, rest, put laundry on the line, rest. That’s how it has to be right now. And the funny part is, I’m getting more done than I ever did when I was running around like a crazy woman.

Maybe because I’m doing the things that really matter. I don’t have the strength or energy to get bogged down in extra stuff. My days are distilled down to The Most Important.

And you know what? I quite like it. I’m learning to thrive as a crawler through life, as a tugboat woman. Going slower gives me time to really take in each experience, to notice things that would otherwise be a blur, to be able to deal with small issues before they become big ones.

I know I’m not the only one going through Tugboat Days. Some of you dear folks are also slowed by illness, others by children, tight finances, relational upheaval, all of the above. If you’re in Tugboat Days, I just wanted to assure you that you’re not alone, that it’s not going to be like this forever. It’s OK to move slowly, to putter away at the things you can handle and let the others go until you’re able to tackle them. It’s OK. And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m only an email away. xo

As I sat in my shady hollow, the sun crept closer and closer, shimmering through grass heads and leaves until finally it burst through in wondrous splendor.

Wishing you a beautiful week. xo

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At the End of the Day » Rambling Tart - […] that came through the picture window was daylight, real golden late-afternoon daylight, not a white mist light. The sky was a robin’s-egg blue, and Coraline could see trees and, beyond the trees, green […]

Little Things in the Woods and Winter on the Farm » Rambling Tart - […] all this busyness, my goat-herding treks into the bush have become my down time to relax and enjoy the beauty around […]

Lauryl Lane - Stunning. And we all have different ways of living and coping, so knowing what works best for YOU is what is most important. Sending healing thoughts your way!

Andrea and John - What a beautiful walk! That light is amazing

Jacqueline_at_Bliss - Oh, Tugboat Days! I can’t think of a better description for the pace that we are all called to surrender to … without feeling defeated! Now, if my tugboat days were accompanied by woods and fields and sunshine such as yours, I’d never jump ship (erm, boat). Sending you much love and nothing but feel-better wishes. xx

Margaret | DestinationHere&Now - Me too. We live by it!

Krista - I do too, @9d73767d10227efff04c7307e331304c:disqus 🙂 It makes me smile and gives me courage. 🙂

Krista - They sure do, @jenny_atasteoftravel:disqus 🙂 It’s like a hard Spring for them. 🙂 Slow but sure is right!!

Krista - That is brilliant, @disqus_2yjJojmJOE:disqus 🙂 I really love that. xo

mlleparadis - great post, beautiful pics. love that expression tugboat days! xo!


jenny_atasteoftravel - I’m sure your friends overseas find it hard to believe that this is winter! Another beautiful day to cheer the soul…for me always the best way. I do love your tugboat analogy…slow but sure as my father used to say! Hope you’re feeling better soon.

Margaret | DestinationHere&Now - Advice from a friend who coaches a little boys soccer team. Just play what you can see Krista. Play what you can see. x

Krista - So glad you like the pics, @OrgasmicChef:disqus 🙂 I hope you’re having a fantastic time with your sister this week! 🙂

Maureen | OrgasmicChef - Beautiful photos and such a great reminder that much of what we think is important and must be done is just fluff. You’ve shown us how to get through without running around like crazy people.

Krista - “Important but doable” – I like that, @budgetjan:disqus 🙂 I’ve done goat curry and chicken curry in my crockpot and both worked. Though I find I add more spices to the crockpot version, and add fresh lime and coriander at the end instead of letting them simmer. That seems to work dandy. 🙂

Krista - Isn’t it lovely, @95ea44c9817c2c8c2a30b7104fdf81c1:disqus ? 🙂 It makes me smile. My friend who told me about it says that her husband affectionately calls her a tugboat. She may move slowly but she pulls big loads. 🙂

Krista - I’m so glad, dear @adrianaclassicalquest:disqus xo I love picturing you on your morning walk with your own Northern Hemisphere wildlife. 🙂

Krista - Thank you so much, @ken_powell:disqus 🙂 I really love Scottish Thistle too – don’t know why. Maybe from reading so many Scottish books when I grew up? 🙂

budgetjan - As I read about your tugboat days, I thought “Gee, She seems to be achieving a lot”, and then you recognized just that. I think the essence of achieving is as you say, concentrating on important but doable things. Do you find curry in the crock pot works? I find it loses flavour, compared to cooking on a stove top. Maybe I cook it for too long in the crock pot?

Jackie Smith - What a beautiful concept, that tug boat. I suspect we’d all get more accomplished and still be more rested if we could focus on something then take a bit of a respite, and refocus on a single thing. You’ve inspired me with both the beauty of your photos in that early morning sun and your approach to life! Take care ~

Adriana @ Classical Quest - You have spoken right to my heart today, Krista. I’m with you, friend. Thank you. 🙂

I just returned from a magical morning walk. I took an ocarina with me and talked to some mourning doves. Instead of kangaroo, I startled white tailed deer.

Much Love!

Ken Powell - I love that Scottish Thistle, Krista. As far as I know, I have no ancestry in the Highlands, but I went to a school which features the thistle in its crest, and has a Pipe Band. Having marched to that band in my youth, I have a little scot’s in my heritage. Grace and Peace to you on your ‘Tugboat Days’

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