Today was a truly magnificent day.
After the pleasantries of church, seeing family, and having a wonderful home-cooked meal, I was able to enjoy a quiet walk with Flora all the way down to the pond and back in the fading sunshine.
The walk was a feast for the senses. The dry, matted down turf was springy under my slippers and crutches. The light breeze rustled through the few remaining blades of last years’ tall grasses and the creek ran swift and clear underneath the footbridge. The scent of spring tickled my nose as Flora excitedly snuffed the drying trails of field mice and voles that ran through the tiny sprigs of greening moss and clover. The backyard phoebe male announced he was back, sallying after early insects in the pasture and pumping his tail rhythmically like one of those silly nodding birds whose habitats are office desks and car dashes. Flights of ducks and geese whistled over as their new plumage stylishly held them aloft. As dusk creeped in, a couple brave spring peepers called, but were nearly drowned out by the bugling of the Sandhill cranes overhead as they returned to their evening roosts.
Being outside, free from the stuffiness and confines of inside, is incredibly liberating. Everyone needs a place – somewhere they identify with, somewhere they feel at ease in, somewhere to recharge — that they’re searching for:
Lookin’ for a reason
Roamin’ through the night to find
My place in this world ~Place in this World, Michael W. Smith (1990)
My place has always been outside. Being in, within, and a part of creation is of invigorating, purposeful, awe-inspiring, and calming, all at once.
Thank goodness for spring!