Winter has arrived in my garden. There is a carpet of sodden leaves under the mulberry tree that stir imperceptibly with each gust of winter fury. Rugged up, from indoors, I watched them struggle to move and wondered whether that happens to people too.
I was never someone who didn’t move. I have always been productive but there was a time of losses when my mind was too focused on lesser priorities, like career, which I erroneously thought was for the survival of my family, and me. On reflection, my mind stirred but did not move. I did not survive because of career. I survived because I found new meaning for my existence. Back then … I was meant to be, where I was meant to be. Today I am where I am meant to be. Each time I travel, I am where I am meant to be. Acceptance of this was key, and then the universe opened doors for me.
I move now. I see things I didn’t notice before. My hearing is acute for small sounds. I heard a bird call yesterday while working and went outdoors to investigate. I couldn’t see the bird but I heard it. I now live life with curiosity.
End of financial year is an incredibly stressful time. There is extra work on offer. Invoices have to be submitted by deadline and can only be done once the reports are in, so I’m tied to the computer for long periods of time. My home is in disarray. I have damp clothes drying indoors. I hate this! (But, I refuse to use a dryer). There’s dirty dishes in the sink. My bed is unmade. Where ever I look there is something to be done. I felt overwhelmed. With limited time before I drive out today, I took the best option available to me. I looked outside.
This morning, coffee in hand, I looked at the leaves around the crepe myrtle tree. It bloomed well this year, when I saw the last of the leaves.
I had to go out with camera. On the bleakest of days, the leaves are the colours of sunset.
On a tree full of flowers in spring, I did not notice the foliage. Today I saw they were the last of autumn, with winter following close behind, so I knew I would never see them again. Their time had come.
I had to share a moment with the leaves before the winds blew them away. They will be gone by the time I return home from my trip. When they do, it will be a reminder, all life is lived in seasons. Sometimes, overwhelmingly abundant. At other times, there is starkness. It is in that space of stillness, of inertia, where hope finds a home and leads to ‘movement’. Nature tells us, no matter how bleak a winter, spring, a time of renewal and abundance, will follow.
May you find that space of hope today. This is my gift to you.
Until next time
a dawn bird