This morning was a chance to sleep a little later.
I sat with coffee and journal, the sun already warming the windows.
Deciding to walk with my daughter, morning instead of late afternoon, I saw sunlight through the pines, wrapping round them in loose embrace.
Earlier this morning, at just the right time, I looked towards the wiry branch of barren crepe myrtle to see a lone cardinal amongst a group of sparrows.
Sparrows flew away quickly, the cardinal too and then one tiny sparrow came back to rest, as if coming back for me.
I believe this to be true.
I’m convinced of it actually.
That my place on this earth is surrounded by beauty waiting to be noticed.
So, I notice.
Out walking, I thought of the poem about growing old, of all things purple. Of wearing purple and living like brilliant purple.
I turned to notice the brightness in sky of clear blue today.
I thought of how odd I may seem to neighbors glancing through living room windows as I pause to capture skies and trees, out for a walk with my phone pointed towards the sky.
I thought, just a minute and then continued on.
I’m not bothered in the least that people might find me odd
My love of sparrows, skies, moons, and trees, the words to my rhyme.
I shall marvel at cloudless blue sky and notice the budding of trees after coldest of days.
I shall spend mornings quiet, in quiet home, a satisfied nothingness of retreat.
I shall paint for hours, with abandon and careless grasp of time.
And I shall notice even more each minute.
In this world made to be noticed.
The heavens tell of the glory of God. The skies display His marvelous craftsmanship. Psalm 19:1