We are nearing the end of January, and somehow, I’m still trying to recover from Christmas. Certainly the older I get the faster time seems to fly by. Realizing this reminds me that I must stop and be present before the moment escapes me, so I stand looking out on the garden now iced and sprinkled with remnants of the last snowfall.
A brilliant red Cardinal flies down to sit on the small bridge that arches over the creek. He seems to stare into the frozen water where in warmer weather he loves to take a bath. But seeing only ice and snow he again retreats into the dense branches of the ancient Bradford Pear. It seems that he is simply waiting.
A bushy-tailed-gray squirrel crawls carefully under the gate then gallops through the garden, unaware that he is being watched. He climbs into my large clay pot, full now of only remnants of the beautiful flowers it held through the growing season, and begins to dig. Ah, there it is, the black walnut he buried there in early fall. He clenches it between his teeth and scurries away.
Now the garden is still….no sign of life. It is beautiful in its stillness.
For me, this stillness is the gift of winter. I need to make more time in my day to just sit and enjoy without that nagging “I should be doing this or working on that….”
Once again the garden is my reminder to stop, be present, breathe, and SEE.
This must be what living is truly all about.