I am looking at this beautiful natural balancing act that played out in front of me one day in late June. I am grateful I can look at it again and then again this crispy cold October day. I can’t say why this very moment, caught in time, now timeless, touches me so deeply. Only that it does. Something within wishes to honour it by putting words to everything that this picture stirs within the deep waters of being. The closest I get with words is that it radiates gentleness and fragile innocence. But any other words fail to surface. And once again I realise, the deepest, most meaningful and sometimes simplest moments of presence in life often only translate into the language of profound pulsating stillness.
At least that’s the case with me.
Earlier today I heard thunder, just one longing rumble of the skies. This moment when I look out, I see the changing light from the sun showing itself through fast moving clouds. I know the wind is chilly because I have already been outside saying good morning to my friend the winged one, all grown up, displaying its red chest. Today I felt the weight of its little winged body longer on my hand than usual.
On my bed lies the hunter cat, content and stretched out in full length soaking up the rays of sun that now and again shines through the window and reaches her fluffy winter coat. I’ll leave her to it, press ‘Publish’ and step outside and leave all the words and lack of same to their own destiny.