I took a moment this morning to see and hear the world. What a gray, wet, and glorious day I thought, as I sat beneath the covering that kept me dry. A symphony of birds, in all the trees, singing praises to the Heavens for the rain upon their head. Two squirrels, walking, hopping, jumping, searching. Standing on hind legs when the treasure is found and the nibbling begins. Two yellow finches fluttering across the neighbor’s yard. All are seemingly oblivious that they are getting wet. Above it all the drip, split, splat of the rain tinkling down on grass, pavement and brick. The robins soar from tree, to ground, to tree, surveying the land for a puffy fat worm and a sip from the puddle that helps the worm go down. There is unrest for a moment. A hawk dives and the maddening sound begins of the little sparrows, chittering chittering in hot pursuit of their brother who is caught in the talons of the hawk. He flap, flap, flaps away indifferent to their pleas. A tiny little chipmunk brave enough to sneak up on me for a little closer look, and then he scatters quickly, back to the safety of the open yard. How soon he forgot about the demon hawk. It is a good day and it will pass much too quickly. But this moment, as I breath, a sigh of joy, is taken and tucked gently in the memory of my heart, for another day that seems not to be as glorious.
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