Photo by Cory (younger son)
That feeling you might call boredom, is peace. With a life of anxiety, always on the edge, always ready for the next explosion of emotion or happening, peace might feel boring. It is peace.
Overcast, cooler, and oh so still, calling me out for early morning laps before breakfast. My being relaxes into the stillness, going deep into my center where swirling has quieted.
Each day a new day. Though the path is the same, trodden down from so many times around, if you look closely it is not the same as yesterday.. Different if time is taken to absorb every nuance. Stopping at the blackberries, some are ripe. Plucking a handful they dissolve over my tongue with sweetness.
Birds fly off as if perplexed at my intrusion at their early morning feast. Stopping at lap five by the creek to rest in the comfortable chair, a King Fisher flies off. Then a heron’s deep throttled quack is heard as it gracefully swoops off into another fishing perch.
Sitting a long while by the water, the beauty that is often taken for granted sinks into my soul like warm waves. Though it sometimes seems overly familiar, it is not. It keeps changing renewing itself each day. But you have to notice, drink it in, and enjoy the countless gifts mother gives.