Even after thirty years as a language teacher, Joe Carosella still firmly believes that Every Day Is a Beautiful Day. He hikes avidly in the Adirondacks and the UK, loves nature, ice cream, travel, languages, and words in general, and spends a lot of time writing poetry and reading. His poems have appeared in Adirondac and Ridgeline. [Instagram: josephaicarosella]
The squirrels are up, they dash about. I’m up as well – but don’t go out to sit or walk. Why? I’ll explain. It’s mid-November: Wind, and Rain. Oh, I’ve been out in rain before. And wind – that’s something I adore. So why stay in? Because it’s cozy. It’s good not every day is rosy. At times we like a break from bright to help us keep a sharper sight: what seems opposed, like yang and yin, or dark and light, are always in a dance, connected. So I decide this morning I’ll just sit inside. My chair, my blanket and my tea will let me ponder, cozily, November’s contrasts: bluster, charm, chilly outside, inside warm.
The long trail rises, dips and onward goes. My soul, too, has its ups and downs. It knows what it can’t know: what any day may bring. And that it’s not in spite of everything – no, it’s because of all – that we can sum up circumstance and happening and come to see ourselves, to see that what we’ve had and seen and done and been, the good, the bad and all the many days of in-between – the days of trials, and those of lustrous sheen – define us, lend our character its forms. Life has its share of grim and threatening storms, at times it leads us through the grime and mud, or thirsting drought. But then the blessings flood into our lives. The long trail onward goes. It twists and turns. It drops us into lows. Then high we rise. We step and set our pace each day once more, and maybe find our place.
Remember? Yesterday it rained. That made the purpling berries swell. Today I pick, my skin gets stained – magenta and violet splotches tell that I have visited those friends whose boughs that bear these berries bend inviting me to stretch and eat this sticky, drippy, bursting treat.
The Adirondack Almanack is a public forum dedicated to promoting and discussing current events, history, arts, nature and outdoor recreation and other topics of interest to the Adirondacks and its communities
We publish commentary and opinion pieces from voluntary contributors, as well as news updates and event notices from area organizations. Contributors include veteran local writers, historians, naturalists, and outdoor enthusiasts from around the Adirondack region. The information, views and opinions expressed by these various authors are not necessarily those of the Adirondack Almanack or its publisher, the Adirondack Explorer.
General inquiries about the Adirondack Almanack should be directed to editor Melissa Hart.
To advertise on the Adirondack Almanack, or to receive information on rates and design, please click here.