It is a crisp and bright Thanksgiving morning here in the hills of New England.
The first rime of ice is spread across the land and Jack Frost’s handiwork is everywhere.The dry stalks of golden rod are silvered and bowed, accepting the season gracefully.Chrysanthemums, once russet red, are draped in hoary lace and all is transformed by the magic of ice crystals and early morning light. Soon white will dominate the landscape and my heart will wax less poetic on the topic of ice, but for now, I as am enchanted as a child at this wonder of nature.
The chickadees fill the stately lilac near the kitchen window and noisily voice their enthusiasm for the warm sunflower seeds in the recently filled feeder. Their cheerful company, so close at hand, will delight me all winter long. I will marvel at their resilience despite frigid temperatures and blustery Artic air. They seem so accepting of whatever the day contains and make the best of trying situations. We Americans could learn a lesson from their pluck and tolerant attitudes as we gather together this Thanksgiving, during these tumultuous times.
As we look around the table at new friends and old, relatives and neighbors, and share the bounty of this holiday, may we rekindle the hopefulness of that first Thanksgiving. A moment in time where Massasoit, the great sachem of the Wampanoag people and leaders of the Pilgrims in Plymouth, Massachusetts brought their families together to celebrate the bounty of the land and built bridges of understanding between two separate worlds.
May you all have fond memories to savor on this Thanksgiving Day…