She sat. Legs crossed. Eyes shut. Focused on her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Until everything fades away, and stillness is found. Images flicker behind her eyes. To rapid to consciously process, but they are processed and remembered. In. Out. Breathing. Flashing images. Repeated. Washed with love. Deep in gratitude. Slowly returning to the present. Where the stillness will carry her through the day. Where the breath will be focused on. Where her gratitude will be deepened. Where life will flow and unfold in calmness, wonder, and delight. In stillness, deepening gratitude, she lives and breathes each day. Sending love to all along the way.
She sat. Looking out across the lawn. In all actuality, she was not looking at anything. Blindly staring out across the lawn was more accurate. Meditating? Perhaps. Numb, might be more descriptive.
She could not believe what happened. Seconds before she left to go home. The whole world tipped upside down. Okay, maybe that was a stretch to say. Perhaps, a bit dramatic. Yet her world did change. In an instant. Bam. Changed.
She knew it was coming. All the signs were there, but she had no clue it would be today. Today. Today!
She pushed her hands through her hair in an effort to wrap her mind around the whole thing. She tried to focus her gaze on something real, it, the numbness, kept creeping in. Why would she be numb? It was perplexing.
This was the very thing she had been working towards.
Her dream had been realized!
Why was she numb? Yes, at first she was ecstatic! She even hugged Marty, who, perplexed and squirming, stammered out a “Congratulations.” Blushing profusely.
She might have to apologize to Marty for invading his space when she saw him tomorrow at the humane society. After all, he was only there by happenstance, when the call came through that she got the house.
The one that whispered to her in her dreams. Yes, it was a material object, and in the grand scheme of things, it should not matter. Yet matter, it did. She loved the house! Something about it soothed her.
She breathed deeply. Expelling the numbness, and realizing that she did deserve this wondrous new beginning.
With a huge sigh of relief, accepting her fate would be entwined with this house, she stood up, walking into her home, intent to finish packing.
She was moving on!
She stood at the oak tree overlooking town. A storm was rolling in. Flashes of lighting could be seen in the distance. She watched the storm for a few minutes. Marveling at the sun hitting her back, and the slowly approaching storm. It always fascinated her when the weather was split so noticeably.
She knew, by how slow the storm was approaching, she had a few more minutes to watch before she headed into town for shelter. She had work in ten minutes, and would have to get moving regardless of the storm.
She was thankful she had a few more minutes to observe the split wonder of nature. The sun still lingered behind her. The storm slowly, but determinedly, moving toward her. She hoped it was the type of storm that moved out the same way because there was something metaphoric about a storm moving out slowly with the sun lighting the sky behind it. Slowly, burning the storm away.
Slightly smiling, she walked to work. Knowing it would be a slow day. Most people would stay in because of the storm.
Perched on the deck railing. Looking all around. He caws once. Enough to get my attention. My attention captured. He starts his dance. Bouncing up and down on the railing, head bobbing. I can almost hear the music he must be listening to. His feet catch the rhythm; send him jumping all around. Now his head is bobbing, feet are jumping, tail feathers are twitching, and he starts singing. Caws of music. Rhythm all his own. He is joy. He is light. He is music.
Hawk perched on the wooden dowel. Waiting for his meal. His wing grew stronger with the passing of each day. He knew it would not be long before he was soaring high in the heavens. How he longed to be free.
The women who found him and fixed him; talked to him daily. Letting him know he would not be a prisoner there. He would be strong enough one day to soar again.
He tried to patiently wait for the day of his release. While knowing he would miss some of his healing days, as the women who tended him, gave him hope. Her kind eyes always met his piercing gaze as she handed him his meal.
He planned to watch over her when he was free. Keeping the mice and rabbits out of her yard.
Owl sat on his tree limb, waiting, as always, for a wish to buzz by.
Bzzz, Bzzz, Bzzz…
“There it is!” He laughed.
Grabbing it out of the air with his beak. He quickly grasped it in his talons, and gently unfolded it.
“I wish for a new bike.” The wish said.
“We will see.” thought Owl.
He closed his eyes and brought up a vision of the boy who wished for a new bike.
The boy was playing with a group of kittens, who’s mom was out hunting a meal for them. The boy had sandy blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a heart that shone brightly.
Owl smiled and choose to grant the wish.
The next day, Timmy, the boy who wished for a bike, was in town with his mom. They were buying groceries.
Upon leaving the store, Timmy saw an ad for a bike, like the one he wished for. He asked his mom if he could have the bike. She smiled and said they would have to see how much it cost.
Timmy sighed. Praying it did not cost much.
It turned out, the boy who owned the bike had bought a new bike and wanted to pass his old bike onto someone else.
The someone else turned out to be Timmy.
I heard a tapping at the door. Grumbling to myself, I uncurled from my seat, set my book down, and went to the door.
You stood there. Disheveled and ragged. It was hard to tell if the rain caused your unappealing appearance, or if you naturally looked that way. Tufts of blonde stuck out in all directions.
Your eyes sought mine. Pleading for shelter. Pleading for warmth and comfort from the storm.
The covered porch was keeping you dry for now, but the wind howled in gusts causing those blond tufts to continuously rearrange in a new disheveled state.
Pleading, soulful, brown eyes looked at me.
I knew what would happen if I let you in. I knew you would steal my heart. Uproot my life. Even knowing this, I stepped aside.
You trotted past. Sniffing at the table where my keys lay in a bowl. Tail slightly wagging; you looked back at me. In your eyes was relief to be warm and pleading to be accepted.
I patted your head, and suggested you get dry and fed. You grinned. More at the prospect of eating, then the drying part, I know.
Dry, fed, and warm. You sat at my feet while I posted a picture of you on the lost and found. Praying you were not lost to someone, but found.
The shovel pierced the earth for the hundredth time. Sinking as low as it could, then lifting dirt, turning it, and placing it back inside the hole. The shovel continued like this for a few more minutes until Antoinette decided she needed a drink of water.
Stopping to drink, she gazed at the newly turned ground. The future of her flower and herb garden. It was hard work turning the soil by hand, but she knew that once the flowers bloomed it would be worth every sore muscle.
Smiling she went back to digging. Imagining the plants blooming and thriving in her future garden.
She sat under the spray of the sprinkler, water glittering through the air, catching the sunrays. She imagined she was being sprinkled in stardust, and everyone knows stardust is magical. She will become magical, too.
She lay back, letting the water droplets roll off her. Surprisingly, the stardust was cold. She thought it would have been warm or hot.
She squinted her eyes to prevent the water from going into them and watched the rainbow of colors appear under the spray of water. Like the night sky, only magical in a different way.
Is that not like life? Connecting one thing, but at the same time being absolutely different.
Twirling through the air, Brown and dry, the oak leaf drifted past us on our midday walk. The walk was our quest to find the best iced over puddles.
“Can you eat an oak leaf?” The five year old asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe if you boiled it?” He said, as he twirled the leaf in his hand. He intended to bring the leaf inside the house to feed to his stuffed animal caterpillar.The caterpillar liked oak leaves best.
“Pehaps if you boiled it. I really never thought of eating an oak leaf.”
Iced over puddles can wait another day as we head inside with lunch for a caterpillar .