Skip to main content

an empty park


The park was empty this morning. I was humming California Dreamin'. I like seeing people and exchanging a few words, but there's something extraordinary and peaceful about being there - alone. Isabella freely sniffed. 

I could weave my way in and out of the trees without wondering if people thought I was a crazy lady for not walking a straight path.

trees are gray-brown silhouettes 
set against an ashen sky, ready to drop crafted snowflakes
streets are iced
houses bright with twinkling lights beckon us indoors
winter is descending with darkness and dormancy and cold
each breath exhaled creates fog
an innate splendor 
air crystallizes and suspends for a moment
all is calm
all is quiet
in the season of rest and sleep

I could hear the birds and see my breath. 

I was mindful of winter's imminent arrival. The sky had that "snow sky" look. It's time to think about hibernating, where all is stilled and quiet for a time.

Plants and animals need this season to regenerate and grow. Plants put down deeper roots in winter. It's how they're designed.

Being created ones, shouldn't we allow ourselves a time of rejuvenation?

The manic Holiday Season is going on all around. Somehow, it's become the polar opposite of the intent. So, I'm choosing to slow down, be more intentional and thoughtful. I'm giving myself permission to rest, to go deeper and to genuinely enjoy the quiet season.

Peace, my friends -

Missy



If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Good morning, lab rats!

One of my favorite movies is “A Good Year,” starring Russell Crowe.  It’s a fun little romp through the South of France, filled with wine, romance and very poignant moments of clarity. Max, is a driven, pompous business man who is willing to use, abuse and finagle his way to the top, and then gloat.  He is never satisfied with his accomplishments.  "Good morning, lab rats,” indicates his ‘tude. Fanny, on the other hand, is a bicycle wielding, passionate woman.  She is suspicious, short-tempered and very jealous, yet content with her way of life; minding the business of others. The storyline is obvious:  opposites attract, love blooms and then blows up.  Reflecting on the vast difference in their existences, this dialogue is uttered: Max:   This place does not suit my life. Fanny:  No Max, it’s your life that does not suit this place. Makes me wonder how many times I have said no to things because it didn’t fit into my prec...

wishing flower, vulnerable and beautiful

do you see a weed or a wish? Let’s just say, I’m not an early morning girl.  Those who know me appreciate this and quietly leave me alone until I’ve had a chance to emerge from my pre-coffee zombie state.  However, there is a bird glee club that begins at about 3:30, yes in the morning.  It’s lovely and melodic; leaving me no choice but to listen.  Translated, this means I’ve been up before my norm.  The youthful hours are warm, but fresh; they beg for a walk, and so does Isabella. Yesterday was a little cooler so our pace was speedy, at least for my little legs.  We passed cars and bushes and bugs zipping around … and the rejected weed. pulled up by its roots discarded wishing flower tossed aside left at the edge of the sidewalk the sun beat down life ebbing from the slender stalk, leaves drying, privately curling desperate to hold onto being funny , how I noticed the thrown-away on a morning walk my thought to stop and ...

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas.  I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans.  This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm.  My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff.  On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers.  Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep.  Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven!  The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week.  Yippee!  I no longer needed to ...