The time to relax
is when you don’t have time for it.
-Sydney J Harris
People, even more than things,
have to be restored, renewed, revived,
reclaimed and redeemed;
never throw out anyone.
-Audrey Hepburn
There is something pleasurable
in calm remembrance of past sorrow.
-Cicero
I’m feeling a bit melancholy. Not sad, necessarily; not happy either, just introspective and mellow. As Cicero says, a calm remembrance of past sorrows. Not a bad thing at all, considering that not too long ago similar ruminations would cause severe emotional turmoil. I think this means progress.
I even went outside (breaking out the jacket for the first time this season, also the fingerless gloves. I LOVE MY FINGERLESS GLOVES) and enjoyed some Fall.
(This after an insanely hectic morning of rush hour, complete with blinding sun glare, and doctor appointments. Ugh. I don’t know how people manage rush hour traffic day after day without going completely batty.)
I went on a meandering walk all around the yard, taking great pleasure in placing my feet where they would create maximum crunch on the fallen leaves.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
I know. I’m three years old.
Then I laid back and watched the wind toss the treetops. It was wild. The leaves were raining down on me, and I kept making comments to Cassidy like “Look at all that rain!” and “Have you ever seen such a storm?” and she humoured me until I asked if she could hear the thunder, and she placed her hands on either side of my face and looked into my eyes and said very seriously, “Mom. It’s not raining. It’s leaves.”
She laid down next to me and we stayed that way for a while in companionable silence. I was listening to the roar of the wind and watching the sway of the treetops and the rain of the leaves, thinking of John Muir and his love of the wildness of nature; of how whenever a particularly fierce storm would hit the forest he would climb to the top of the nearest tree and ride the storm out, laughing and shouting, becoming one with the storm.
Crazy, that one. My kind of crazy.
It is difficult to capture the movement of trees with the point and shoot, even in manual.
Any advice on this matter cheerfully accepted.
I asked Cassidy what she was looking at, and she pointed upwards and said in a dreamy voice (I think she may have been, unbelievably, on the verge of dozing off), “The sky.”
And I was struck by the fact that, although we were in the same place and contemplating the same horizon, I saw turbulence and turmoil while she saw serenity and an expanse of sky.
This is the difference between adults and children.
I also went to see my uncle yesterday, my father’s older brother, and was chagrined to find it had been nearly two years since I saw him last. Two years! The man lives half an hour away. This has got to change.
And finally, Facebook. I have slowly, reluctantly, begun to understand the appeal of Facebook. I’ve been a presence in name only for some months, but I think I get it now. The connecting with people from my past, who remember me as I once was, who helped to shape who I am today.
I spent some time last night seeking out these people, exchanging pleasantries, memories, and genuine hopes for their continued good health and happiness in days to come. It was nice.
Count your garden by the flowers
never by the leaves that fall.
Count your days by golden hours
don’t remember clouds at all.
Count the night by stars, not shadows.
Count your years by smiles, not tears.
And with joy on every birthday,
Count your life by friends not years.
-author unknown
So, that’s what I did yesterday. What did you do?
Frisky Librarian says
I LOVE crunching leaves on the ground!
Robin says
Other sounds I love: snapping gum, whistling (I can't whistle to save my life), and babies with hiccups.