In the Thick of Things

Life has been exploding on the swake all week.  Every plant and tree that can turn green has, the only casualty of the winter was the silver maple which the deer rubbed all the bark off.  It stands looking a little morose, an over sized bare twig that the red-winged blackbirds perch on.  Even in its leaf-naked state, it has a certain regality holding its own among the swake grass that has grown at an astounding rate around its trunk.

 The grass has grown much slower in the woodlands.  I wandered around last weekend through the pines which have been here far longer than I have been alive.  At first I walked quickly because that is just what one does when you live life jam packed and it is a difficult habit to break. Then I noticed a tiny blue orchid like flower on the forest floor.  A single plant dwarfed by the huge old pines that formed the canopy.  It was a beautiful fragile thing that called me stop, to take a closer look, and to wonder.  What was it called and were there more?

There were more, lots more, and I was fortunate to have caught a glimpse of one which made me slow down in the thick of the pines long enough to realise there were more.  Not only were there more of the blue flowers, there were Alberta roses that were beginning to blossom, and something yellow that looked like a member of the primrose family.  My walk in the woods which had started out with speed and intent, had been dialled back to cautiously placed footsteps and wonder for all I would have missed if I had not noticed the first small blue flower.

My route took me around the back side of the house and over the sandy ridge to the swake where Kanti was mousing in the grass.  I swear that grass had grown another two inches while I was in the pines enjoying the flowers.  Kanti was barely visible above the grass, and she's a big pooch.  But there she was in the thick of it, waiting with a patience that was positively amazing considering her relative lack of self control when she is excited.  Somehow, she knew she needed to stand quietly with her nose attune or she'd never catch the mouse.  And so she waited, she watched, she stayed still.

Kanti reinforced my lesson in the trees.  I'm not planning to go mousing anytime soon, however watching Kanti do something which came instinctively to her was fascinating.  It made me wonder what I would see, hear, and feel if I stood still and tuned my soul into the world around me.  What tiny beautiful moments lay at my feet, what joie de vivre awaited me in the thick of things?