Monday, August 8, 2011

Hovering above...

I had such an incredible urge to walk yesterday.  The weather was perfect.  It was warm and bright and there was a strong breeze.  I left hatless and without sunglasses wanting to walk far, fast, and feel the wind and sun weathering my face as I strode.  Of course I slung my camera along too, so the fast part was greatly compromised.  I was struck everywhere by almost everything.  The colors, the warmth, the buzzing of bees, the flowers, the birds.  I was surrounded by summer beauty.  The Rosebud valley looks so amazing right now.  Various shades of green and yellow, and all so lush.
I took a side path, wondering if it would be overgrown, but the thin dirt trail beckoned me on, up and up the short cut to Smiley Face Hill.
I wanted to weep with the awareness of beauty all around me.  Has it taken my 42 years to REALLY appreciate the wonder of it all?  If I had been this grateful, this observant, and this clear 20 years ago, I think I would have also been more courageous.
It made me wish to be in shape, so I could respond to the urge in my being to run and leap like a gazelle.
Is it too late?
No.
The real issue is, am I willing to give up my comfort for the discipline it would take.
I realized that I have finally fallen in love with this little valley.  I heard peaceful patrons from Calgary say they love coming here, but it's taken me awhile to see it's merit.  Quaint, yes.  Unique, yes.  Creative and quirky, yes.  But today, it stirred in me the knowledge that I know it.  I know it, I love it, and it has become my home.  --That's a scary one, because I long for Oregon where I grew up.  Where luscious beauty and mild climate thrive year round.  I don't want to let go of my original home, for fear that I won't get back.  Or worse, that I might forget.
Nearing the top of the hill, suddenly three huge dark birds took off.  They were riding the currents for what looked like pure joy in the prime conditions.  The soared and dipped and then hovered in the same spot like magic.
     Instead of taking the road across the cattleguard and under the barbed wire, I took the safe way back, only a bit puzzled.  Two years ago (has it really been that long?) when I was up there, it was much easier to get through.   But the three flammable power plant warning signs did their work in dissuading me and I turned round and walked the road home, wondering if I'd missed another adventure.
     But no.  For it was there on that ordinary gravel lane, that one of the birds drew near.  One of the big dark ones, (I'm not sure what it was - not speckled like a hawk, not ugly enough to be a vulture, and maybe not big enough for a... but oh, could it be?  --a golden eagle? - It sure looked eagle-like, only dark brown!), anyway, he hovered over me for a good 7 seconds.  I know he was just finding a sweet spot in the warm and cold drafts, but it was stunning!
   I've only seen birds hover a few times, and each time has been memorable, and a sign to me.  A crack of the eternal shooting through for a moment to remind me of another dimension -- the one with no boundaries and hearts that long for good.
     My walk was twice as long as the brief ones I've been taking over the past few sunny months, and so a different pull was beginning to beckon me back to my family.  I was grateful for the time to be alone.  Time to utter truth about my thoughts and feelings.  And time to soak in the natural and be reminded of God and his Provision.
      The wind tugged at my wisps of hair around my face, trying to get them out from my too tight hairband.  I squinted into the sun, aware again of having no hat, sunscreen, or shades, and yet I loved it.  I'm usually so protected, but today I wanted to be weathered by the elements - to really feel them on me.  It dawned on me that I actually had a craving to taste the wind.
     There are frequent times that I thirst to be near water, so I can feel the ions it gives off calming me.
     Other times where I've stared into a fire well past conscious thought and been mesmerized by the light flaring in the coals.
     Lately I've been soaking up time in our little garden.  Tending.  Weeding.  Pruning.  Listening to the soil drink the moisture from the storm in the night.
     Well, here I was finally being saturated in wind.  I had been missing it.  The last few outbreaks that broke our branches were observed behind glass.  Finally I was out in it and sensing it, and in the most beautiful way: no rain or cold; just warmth and life... and hovering majestic birds.
     I was reminded that I don't always have to travel to encounter profound truth and beauty.
     But sometimes I have to get out in it to see my home from a different perspective.  To hover above it for a good seven seconds and see that it is indeed, blessed.

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