I like our living room. It's bright and open. There is a bay window, with a window seat, that overlooks the front yard. On the seat rests a metal-type bowl. The bowl isn't solid, but rather sculpted with metallic wires and such - leaves and grapes and vines. Inside the bowl are decorative embossed balls, almost the size of croquet balls. Each ball with a different embossed scene. Tigers. Elephants. Giraffes. Africa.
Story orbs.
The spheres bring to mind one of my favorite songs, "Circle of Life," which I first heard in the movie "The Lion King." Circles. Orbs. Globes. Scenes.
On either side of the artistic bowl that is home to the scenic globes, sit two oil lamps. They have been used from time to time. I've not used them in awhile. Perhaps I will tonight, light them instead of turning on the switch of the tall, black, upright floor lamp.
I could swear that the fuel oil I poured into those lamps was originally a pale shade of purple. Did the sun bleach the color from the oil? I wondered as I pondered the lamps this morning. The past months, I've noticed the clear oil and thought of how the sun purifies.
The thought of the sun transforming the oil from purple to clear causes me pause.
Our family used to play croquet regularly. We'd hit or tap the balls with our mallets and watch them travel the lawn. Colored, striped orbs spinning on Earth.
Croquet. That might be a good springtime activity, once the spring has again sprung. The warmth causing the daffodils to sprout. Renewal time after the dormant season of cold and ice and shorter days.
I wonder what I'll accomplish this 2010 and 2011 dormant season?
Wow. The year 2011, ten years beyond the Odyssey.
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