Brigid the Blessed

 

February 1, 2026

Brigid the Blessed

Woke listening for the hum of the furnace that would testify that the power had not gone out. Held my breath for the flushing of the toilet that would testify that the pipes had not frozen. Watching what seemed like multiple thickness of snow fall from the air did not prepare me for the hard, compact, shallow snowfall revealed by morning. Patches of grass showed through. Places were swept bare by the wind. My red brick porch is clear of snow after the first day. 

Watched the film Sinners.  I tried to make it better than it was. I’m the ideal audience for things I don’t initially understand. Always the benefit of the doubt. 

What do I think about all day? It must be something, for I awoke in the first light and now tap at my computer in the last light of Saint Brigid’s Day. Something must carry one hour to the other. The odd thing is that I am happy.