This morning felt like a return to home. I’m rare in this regard… I love the pre-day hours. For the last several months I had altered the events in my day in a way that enabled me to sleep like a rock but robbed me of these early morning moments of solitude.
The world at peace, still succumb to the powers of slumber… me gliding through it in silence on my vintage Schwinn like a great blue heron in a remote cove… I’ve even got the long bony legs.
Soft, subtle rain fell straight. The fenders kept my back from getting striped with mud, the GoreTex kept my shoulder’s dry, the Starbuck’s warmed my soul but the cold rain chilled my legs confirming I was alive… and awake.
When I returned home I sat on the screened porch and finished a book a good neighbor loaned me titled “The Animal Dialogues” by Craig Childs. It is a fabulously written book about the authors encounters with himself as a natural being and nature. One of the final chapters reverses the roles and describes himself as nature encountering humans.
This takes place as he is walking the desert of Arizona and the abstract scenario removes the barriers that prevent one from pretending we can exist without nature and become part of it, when a Air Force F-18 fly’s over on a training mission 30-ft. off the deck.
As I closed the book a similar awareness of the moment struck me. I was the only human that was vertical for probably 3 village blocks. It was just me, the two cats and a plethora of wild creatures scampering around the base of our bird feeder and flitting through the air. Filling the view with dozens of sounds and bursts of motion. One of the local wild felines was even stalking the chipmunks
I felt as thought I fit in, I was one of them. I had my morning back… I had my world back. I was aware of the wonders.
And now I switch gears, I can hear the kids chattering and cars roll by. But I’m recharged and ready to listen, ready to share, ready to help.