This morning on my way to the laundry room
I see a black squirrel perched on the red bench
little paws to mouth
having a snack
and I say to him, oh that would make a lovely picture
and me with only a laundry basket in hand
of course he seems not the least bit interested in this conversation
and goes about his munching
I step outside, and see another squirrel stopped in for a drink at the pond
and I decide to have a little wander
rain most of yesterday means the early snows are gone
and everything again has thawed
at the little pond I see that one of the fish has perished
I apologize to him, as it appears his death may be, by neglect
and nothing not even simple sometimes plentiful goldfish need come to this
I go to get something to scoop him out
on my way to the shed, I notice the flap and shadow
of large wings just leaving the garden
the fish have all gathered in the big pond, brilliantly bright and all
quite pleasingly, very much alive
while I am watching, a delicate white feather floating on the water’s surface
catches my eye
and then I notice another
I look around the garden and realize
yes, the hawk has indeed been
and while I do indeed take delight in seeing him here
I well know why it is
he lands
I continue to walk, stopping to look closely at each feather I come across
purity in its white some with a small edge of red
pondering the soul by this feather
perhaps, stained in blood
not even quite sure who it is that has been prey
I step gingerly through wet leaves
slightly leery of coming across the
victim
as always in the garden
as with life
there is beauty and there is sorrow
questions without need
of
answers
the circles of beginnings and
endings
the sprouts of spring give way
to the decay of late fall
of course I know the hawk needs to eat too
and just this morning, the blue balloon
magically somehow, has returned to its place
of resting
by the fence
I decide to take in the beauty
and wisdom
and the whispers of wings
that
surround me
a brief chat with my Mother-in-law this morning
who is 92 years old
and has just lost her sister
because of a little geography I have been unable
to wrap my arms around
for comfort
as we are signing off she fumbles with my name,
“Oh, what is it they call you?” she says
“Hey you, ” I offer
and we laugh together like school girls
after hanging up I am filled with gratitude for the great gift
of laughter and kindness
of life and
of love
and it is my hope, that somewhere
in your day
you may be touched by each one of these gifts
too
and that possibly you may think
in your wanderings
to stop for a minute
and say
Thank you ♥
