Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Quiet
In the time after dinner and before bed, I often think I have more things I should do. Then in my desire to avoid doing those things, I go out to the porch and sit in the dark, watching lightning bugs. The things that need doing will still be there; come fall, the lightning bugs will not.
Peace
Sitting on the porch as dusk turns to dark, citronella candles the only
light beyond stars and lightning bugs. Watching the resident bat take
laps in the open space above the driveway, and having The Boy come out
to join me, wordlessly curling up on the love seat as we watch the day
drift away into night.
Stinky
After
dinner tonight, we put on our shoes to take the bins to the curb,
joking between us that we needed to do it before the skunks came out.
We wheel the bins down, and hear the neighbors dog 'ba-rooo'ing at us. "Ramsay hears you singing", I tell The Boy, and we giggle. Then we hear a rustle in the brush between our driveway and the neighbor's house.
"Look!" The Boy points. "The skunk!" And sure enough, waddling through the underbrush TOWARDS us, is a half-grown skunk. We made haste up the driveway to give him right of way, but the silly beasty seemed less concerned about us than we were about giving him a fright.
We wheel the bins down, and hear the neighbors dog 'ba-rooo'ing at us. "Ramsay hears you singing", I tell The Boy, and we giggle. Then we hear a rustle in the brush between our driveway and the neighbor's house.
"Look!" The Boy points. "The skunk!" And sure enough, waddling through the underbrush TOWARDS us, is a half-grown skunk. We made haste up the driveway to give him right of way, but the silly beasty seemed less concerned about us than we were about giving him a fright.
Worship
Some
people go to buildings with other people to offer devotions or worship
or pray to their god(s). I go out to the garden in the cool quiet of the
morning while the rest of the house sleeps.
Who is to say that my worship is less for being under the open sky, kneeling amongst the plants...hands in the soil, listening to the hymns of the birds? Who is to say that my contemplations are less prayerful for being focused on the living things I tend: the flowering plants, the scurrying spider with her egg case disturbed by my turning of the soil and pulling of weeds?
My communion today was with a brave chickadee who ventured close enough to drink from the birdbath as I worked, and with small insects feeding in the salvia.
My sermon was delivered by a scolding cat bird, chastising me for being too close to the feeder.
My blessing came in the form of cooling rain, reminding me that Nature and the gods will do as they shall and the work of a human hand is fleeting.
Who is to say that my worship is less for being under the open sky, kneeling amongst the plants...hands in the soil, listening to the hymns of the birds? Who is to say that my contemplations are less prayerful for being focused on the living things I tend: the flowering plants, the scurrying spider with her egg case disturbed by my turning of the soil and pulling of weeds?
My communion today was with a brave chickadee who ventured close enough to drink from the birdbath as I worked, and with small insects feeding in the salvia.
My sermon was delivered by a scolding cat bird, chastising me for being too close to the feeder.
My blessing came in the form of cooling rain, reminding me that Nature and the gods will do as they shall and the work of a human hand is fleeting.
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