Burnt Sienna

Warm.  Comfortable.  Routinely familiar.  

It's been a burnt sienna kind of day.  Laying in bed finishing up my thoughts for the day, finally warm under a thick comforter and extra quilt on top after the bitter cold of a winter Wednesday, and I'm feeling burnt sienna.

My baby, Stephano, sounds like burnt sienna.  Warm, solid, beautifully simplistic, complex under the surface, composed.  His wood has threads of the rich, reddish brown, and the color dances from the strings when I play him just right.

While burnt sienna might be just a brown and typically overlooked in the palette of things, it's homey and inviting and comfortable.  It's like the embrace of someone missed, or the warmth beside a fireplace when the snow is piling up outside.  And in it's simplicity, it's rich and flavorful and just right.

It's been Claire de Lune or Dies Irie.

It's these kinds of days that make life manageable sometimes.  There was nothing particularly notable; there was nothing rather exciting and yet nothing unfortunately depressing to dampen the natural harmony of things.  Life simply went on today, and that's okay.

I've been particularly aware of the comfort that good friends bring, their routine familiarity and the security to be found in that.  Like a small square of chocolate, there are the times that they offer just a small taste of their own warmth to brighten the flavor of my own day.  It's not that anything new or particularly interesting was said; a few laughs were shared, an I miss you, a shared commonality.  I think it's the little things like that, the little anomalies and the typically un-noted sentences, that bring us into our place in this moving world.  These people with their own stories and their own tracks to leave, touch us just enough, fill in a piece of our picture in just that right way, that make us feel secure in where we are or where we aren't.

It's the gentle reminder that today, everything is okay.  It's the knowledge that I am happy where I am in my life, content with the things I am facing and the ways I am changing.  It's the understanding that tomorrow might not be so easy, but that today is, and that's all that really matters for now.

Warm.  Comfortable.  Routinely familiar.

Claire de Lune by Debussy:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKd0VII-l3A     

Dies Irie by Ahn Trio: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n40NyaUxmcY