birdsong

Spring has sprung a little early this year.  That fact, despite my new found connection with the rhythms of nature, makes me very, very happy.  You see, the sun doesn't often shine in our corner of the world.  So, when it does, we all breathe a little easier and walk a little lighter.

Sunday morning, I found myself in a spot that has often served as a place of connection and renewal.  My parents have a quaint house on the better part of an acre surrounded by undeveloped woodlands (not owned by them).  This is not the house in which I grew up, but have come to love.

This place has always allowed for me to leave behind the hectic pace of life and connect with the slower, more patient pace of nature.  When I was first married, it was often a weekend retreat spot.  Now that we live closer I've found myself immersed in their sanctuary more often by accident than by design.

This is a place where the hardness in my soul cannot take hold.  Where it drowns and the inner sanctum of peace fills me.  

This is a place where my children and I spend our moments "in the moment", leaving the angst of planning and weekly preparations behind.  

This is a very special place.

So, I found myself there this glorious Sunday morning, quite by accident really.  The cool air whipped against my skin.  And I heard the most beautiful symphony coming from every direction.  Each tree seemed to have in it a small section of the chorus.  And soon, I saw them.  Some small, some large, some colorful, some plain.  Each singing freely to the brilliantly blue sky.  And I stopped to listen.  For. a. long. while.

                                                   

And my soul, if only for a minute, felt safe and strong.  Welcome Spring!  Welcome!