o christmas tree
December 8, 2015 § 2 Comments
Each morning I marvel at the harmony of popsicle reindeer and painted pottery, hand-blown glass and milestone mementos.
Some memories fill the shape of my hand, I could tell you the weight of an ornament in sentiment. Others tell a story of fleeting childhood passions; ballerina slippers or characters in forgotten stories. More, still, are beautiful gifts that settle elegantly among the boughs weighting the space between lights with magic. Collectively they share a history that eludes my camera with every failed photograph.
I cannot find an angle that demonstrates the unlikely serenity of so many conflicting designs or the sentimental value of a few unremarkable ornaments. It is a sight I cannot reproduce to preserve, despite my stubborn determinedness. Instead I settle into the delightful stillness of remembering.
Some moments are meant to be lost to joy.
scribblechic 
I’m sitting here just a few feet from the Christmas tree. The wind is blowing hard outside. Your post just made me look up and notice the ornaments. Some have been placed on one tree or another more than 30 times…
I love that you looked up and allowed yourself to consider the ornaments an invitation to remember.