This morning a light fog is slowly receding across the grass toward the pond. A Canadian goose flies upward and disappears. All is now still. Where has the life gone? It’s as if I’m looking at a photograph. My breath slows as I watch. Nothing, not a breath of air is moving. The fog seems to be rolling toward me, not away. And I wait, suspenseful, for the first wink of sun to break through the heavily covered sky. As if a bubble encloses me in this lifeless scene. And I breathe. But the stillness remains.
And then…a small bird flits across the scene and lands on a wire. Two more follow. Another to the top of the trees. They wait with me. Waiting for something…more.
Lifting my cup of tea this morning after letting my eyes transfer the words I’m seeing to be seen through another’s eyes.