This afternoon, the light turned silver as a cold front powered its way through our unusually warm and golden days. The light lifted everything into a kind of winter sheen. The wind blew hard. The sun shone. The birds flew into the window but survived, and the cats went wild. When I stepped outside, I was amazed at the bright silvering of everything all directions — the dark clouds in the north, the clear skies to the west, the white and golden lights shining various ways down and across all I could see.
At the same time, I also spoke with an old friend on the phone just as the sun set, reminding me that some kinds of light are with us for life. They shine between us and those who have seen us move through seasons, changes, challenges and graces. I don’t always understand this silver light that illuminates all, but I’m grateful for it. I don’t always understand my old friends, but I’m grateful for them. I don’t even understand the connection between these seasonal clearings and lifelong friendships of the soul, but I trust they will happen, bringing us face to face with what illuminates the living world around us and the mystery of who we are and love itself.