This morning when I looked out my kitchen window I saw
Three Crows and a Squirrel
across the street.
By the time I had located my camera and my long lens, put on the long lens, discovered that my camera’s battery was dead, and replaced the battery, they had all moved. I was no longer able to catch the three crows in a single image. And by the time I located the squirrel all I saw of it was it leaping away across the park area next to our yard.
That’s life — always in motion
I find moments of grace in scenes like these. Yes, crows and squirrels are everywhere. And they can be annoying. But I love their wildness and saucy confidence. And I love their beauty and even the cacophony of the crows’ raucous cawing.
How Would You Live Then?
What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks
flew in circles around your head? What if
the mockingbird came into the house with you and
became your advisor? What if
the bees filled your walls with honey and all
you needed to do was ask them and they would fill
the bowl? What if the brook slid downhill just
past your bedroom window so you could listen
to its slow prayers as you fell asleep? What if
the stars began to shout their names, or to run
this way and that way above the clouds? What if
you painted a picture of a tree, and the leaves
began to rustle, and a bird cheerfully sang
from its painted branches? What if you suddenly saw
that the silver of water was brighter than the silver
of money? What if you finally saw
that the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day
and every day – who knows how, but they do it – were
more precious, more meaningful than gold?Mary Oliver ‘Blue Iris: Poems and Essays’ Penguin Random House, 2006
I awoke to rain and thunder this morning. Looking out my windows at the pond I could see the splatters of many raindrops falling on the pond. It would be nice to have a slow rainy day I thought. But as I write this post, the sun has reappeared and we have the makings of a steamy very warm day.
Two Paintings
Yesterday I finished a landscape painting for my online painting class. I find following along with the instructor as she paints, copying what she is doing helps me to learn a bit more about brushwork and controlling the paint and water on the paper. My results are still far from hers but I think I can see improvement. Brush miles, she would say, brush miles.
I did two versions of the same landscape along with the instructor. In one I started by painting a background layer and then adding trees and details in a second layer. And in the other one I started by with the focal point of the painting, a large tree and worked from there.
Here is the one where I began with the large tree as focal point:
And here is the first layer and final layer of the one where I began with the background:
How will you live?
I had a thought this morning that frightened me. What if Trump gets re-elected? The fear and angst that I felt threatened to take me down. I had to consciously breath for a minute and mindfully let go of the fear. We don’t know what the future will bring and cannot say with certainty what is the best possible future. Though I know what I think would be best, I also know that sometimes things have to fall apart before they can come together in a more life-enhancing structure.
The life force is endlessly creative, persistent, and inventive. I choose to celebrate the good and to focus on doing what I think is life-enhancing and loving, rather than worrying and being afraid. The only thing each of us can do is the next right thing.
I share this because I think many of us are feeling fear and uncertainty right now along with a deep sense of pending doom.
How will you spend your hours and minutes this week? In wonder, gratitude and joy? Or in worry and fear? I hope you find things around you that bring you wonder and joy. And that you pause to feel grateful for the beauty of life and this world, even amidst all of the dis-function and pain.
May you walk in beauty.
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