Winter has turned into summer here, with hardly any spring in between. We have gone from 10 daytime degrees to 29 in a very short two weeks at the most.
Such sudden change almost forces NOTICING the radical differences: the emergence of
green, and leaves where there were only empty branches, are obvious ones. But the more subtle changes: in the strength of the sun; in the smells of burgeoning trees and plants; in the sudden activity among the foliage as squirrels, chipmunks, porcupines, rabbits
and foxes emerge from winter habits - these take noticing.
Two nights ago, when Joan took Mahti out for her final night visit, she called out to me from the door and said "Come out...just for a few seconds." Whatever I was doing, I stopped and went
out immediately. We stood in the almost-dark courtyard and just breathed. "Notice the smells," she said. And I turned my inner attention to outer senses: the delicate movement of warm air carrying fragrances beyond describing as the trees and greenery stirred
and filled the air with currents of soft perfumes impossible to be imitated. We enjoyed this silent communion for minutes and were blessed by Creation's goodness in just those moments.
Reminders to notice...to stop and smell air currents (rain is another
unique one)...there is never an emptiness in our generous world.