Yesterday morning I went outside, still in pyjamas and a big sweater (I’m sure it’s quite a sight) and with the wonderful locally roasted organic *Anam coffee in my hand. Something I do every morning. It’s my time of simply being. And it is also my time for awaken dreaming.
I am standing under a large sycamore tree bustling with a band of long tailed tits and blue tits and great tits hanging upside down when not flying from autumn leaf to autumn leaf, the last leaves left before they too, very soon, will descend towards the wet grass underneath the tree and create an intoxicating scent of the change of season as they decompose into the spiral of life. I’m lost somewhere in between the space of my senses wide open to all the scents and sounds and feeling of the drop in temperature enhanced by a Westernly wind and a space of ideas about a future project of love. Suddenly I’m pulled out of both spaces by the familiar and deeply heartwarming sound of fluttering wings. I hadn’t noticed my friend the winged one approaching. And I was not in its territory. Yet, still it somehow found me or had followed me quietly. Just like it one day not long ago had followed me as far as the last tree line up a farmers track in the Burren mountains, when I went for a hike. Or the day I came down the very same track after a few hours up on the mountains with my hunter cat (yes, she goes hiking with me at times) and much to my surprise was greeting me as soon as I reached the tree line (while my cat was sitting on a rock, soaking up the sun and with half closed eyes observing it all, biding its time, I’m sure…)
I cherish this meeting and greeting every day, several times of the day. I cherish it as if it was the first encounter I ever had with this beautiful robin. Or the very last. It took me a while to go beyond my worries of harm coming to this young little winged one, knowing how exposed its life in a fragile winged form is to so many dangers. I was also acutely aware that this worry was casting an ever so slight shadow over an astonishingly beautiful and unique present moment due to a future reality which was merely a projection of my mind. Not a reality that existed in the very moment of hearing the flutter of wings and feeling the weight of its little winged body on my hand. I am not sure at exactly which point I made it beyond my worries. Realising how immensely alert and wise it is, definitely helped. One day, I simply just realised my worries were gone and I had fully and wholeheartedly embraced the now and leaned into trust and love for every living breathing moment and no-moment with this joyful one.
The day will come, when this robin too will return to source, just like the raindrops and autumn leaves and there will be silence and no flutter of wings and weight on my hand, but that day is not today.
*Brian and Al from Anam Coffee share the same care for the environment as I do and expresses this through their organic coffee and environmental friendly packaging. As of this year they’re collaborating with me in regards to my photography. On their site you can order an environmentally friendly produced card of mine along with a personal handwritten note to be send with your orders. There will be some robin photographs not seen here yet, among the cards too.