Thursday, February 18, 2010

Ode to Chickory~ "Breathless"

(Something I wrote in Nov 08 at Chickory with Ande, but was then buried under other things I've written. Glad I found it...and thankful for the reminder :)



The Sun sinks on the Autumn Ridge.
I've seen her as she exits,
Viewed from way up high on the mountain side...


Down she goes, down a western slope,
Leaving the land in coolness and shadows.
Bright yellow leaves pretend to be sunbeams-
but only for this season.




The clouds settle over us in a wispy mist.
The Sun turns her back and the dampness lays in.


My fingers grow cold and numb trying to write,
Sitting by the stream as it gurggles and gushes~ swishy and swirly.


A canopy of green, yellow, orange and red tower above us,
As splendid as any cathederal, Holy as any church.

If God is in the details- then surely He exists in this place...
In the light, colors, and sounds which fill the senses.

Steep and arduous hills are with the climb-
Walk slowly, keep breathing, struggle for the top.

Then turn to see the treasure spill out before you~

There IS a difference between being breathless from an excursion-
And being breathless from wonder.
Both have their place ♥


Wednesday, February 03, 2010

Part of my deck is screened in.

I have 2 bird feeders on the deck and there are times when a little bird gets confused and flies into the screened-in section. A little chicka-dee found herself in such a predicament 2 days ago- flying into an area of 3 walls of no escape, and one section open to the world.




She had a one in 4 chance of easily making it out.


I stood at the kitchen window and watched her for a moment. My first impulse was to dash outside and help, but I waited. I watched her fly towards the screen and perch on it, then she looked towards the left, then the right, and then seemed to ponder. She next flew to a chair a few feet away, and again she looked left, then right, and paused for a moment.

For a tiny bird brain she seemed to be doing a lot of thinking.

Again she flew to the closest way out, but a screen kept her in. She flew back to the chair and re-grouped. In my heart I was shouting, "Little one, the way out is so close! What you want is right before you!"

Again she flew towards the screen and found herself trapped.

I felt my pulse rise slightly. Knowing I could set her right was foremost in my thoughts. I stepped away from the kitchen window and walked towards the living room to the deck door- but I was always looking through the windows and keeping an eye on her.

Before I reached the door she landed back on the chair- looked straight ahead, found her way out, and flew towards freedom without my help.

For a second I was that tiny bird.

looking, wondering...