Patches of grey-blue clouds, rainy wintry sky. Dusky red and brown trees, fog over the marsh. Eighteen mourning doves under the holly tree, red-breasted nuthatch, white-breasted nuthatch, cardinals, finches, downy woodpeckers feasting on sunflower seeds and suet cakes. One majestic northern flicker, yellow-tailed.
We're inside with the new puppy, cooking, cleaning, preparing, polishing, waiting. St. Matthew's Passion playing in the background, puppy doing ok with it so far (she howls at some sopranos and Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders).
Mantras offered on behalf of all sentient beings deceased in the making of this food: turkey, insects disrupted by growing and harvesting of celery, onions, herbs for Bell's Seasoning. Thanks to pig for the salt pork in the stuffing. Squash, green beans, Yukon Gold potatoes, russet potatoes, carrots. Wine. Pumpkin pie.
Nice article on Thanksgiving graces in the NY Times.
Today's grace to come:
May all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness.
May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
May all beings never be apart from the great happiness free from suffering.
May all beings remain in the great equanimity of mind
free from passion, aggression and ignorance.
That means you, too, George.