Baby Pinecone
Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you, because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it. Roald Dahl
Yesterday morning I picked up a book that’s been on a nearby shelf for several years. It’s one of many that I’ve started over the years then set aside, pulled away by a shinier red ball or something that seemed at the time a more interesting or urgent trail. There wasn’t time to read in that moment, so I set it aside resolving to read later in the day.
When we returned from a lovely post-dinner walk, Zadie Byrd resisted coming inside. It was a beautiful evening, Sun moving through clouds on its journey to the western horizon, calm and quiet. Rather than insisting that she come in so I could read as planned, I grabbed the book and joined her outside. Ahh, the beauty of a Rocky Mountain evening.
Zadie explored the grounds where her long lead will allow, then pawed some earth and settled in. I settled into a waiting chair, taking a breath, scanning the landscape, and absorbing the serene beauty. A moment of gratitude for Zadie’s ‘suggestion’.
When I opened the book, I was greeted by the above quote. I read just a bit more, then read the quote again. Hmm… I closed the book, wanting to observe my surroundings with luminous eyes, ears, and all my senses. I thought of my desire to be a more keen observer of Nature, to hear and understand her messages. That being the topic of the book, I sensed I was receiving a new lesson, one that put my attention not on words on a page, but on Nature herself. I wondered if Muse was standing by.
I picked up a baby pinecone laying on the ground by my feet, probably knocked out of the tree in Monday’s hailstorm. It smelled of fresh sap and was gentle to my touch. I sensed that I was part of it and it a part of me. We were at once different AND of the same Source.
I felt deep gratitude as I wondered ‘who is that flitting in the pine?’. I took the challenge of seeing clearly in the fading light to discover western wood pewee, white breasted nuthatch, and violet green swallow. I ignored the gnat or small fly buzzing in my ear, to watch Sun’s last rays highlight the twists and turns of branches in an old pine that never fail to have me wonder ‘how/why do they do that?’
I sat, heart and whole being filled with gratitude for this place, this time, this planet, life. This gratitude grounds me in what is real beyond the world’s sound bites, stresses, and strains; its horrors and heartaches; its violence and injustice.
As the light faded, I realized how quiet this dusk is. I thought about an unidentified (so far) voice in the woods that I frequently hear summer evenings. As the thought exits, that voice – a deep, one note sound – enters. I chuckle and rise to move slowing in the voice’s direction. Maybe this day, I will see ‘it’. Not to be. ‘It’ is silent.
After a bit, I roust Zadie and we come inside to prepare for our night’s rest. Closing a back window, I see Moon in her fullness rising over the mountains and through the trees. Having spent time with Sun as she fell in the west, I’m drawn out back to be with Moon. Zadie declines to join me.
Moon mesmerizes as she shines through the trees, like Sun highlighting twists and turns in the pine branches. The unknown voice returns, speaks, moves, speak again, moves, speaks, moves … I sit in awe and deep gratitude for the magic of witnessing and participating in this life.
Muse smiles as I write this, knowing that my understanding and conviction of gratitude as a doorway to magic and peace has deepened overnight. Sun has just risen over the mountains and her rays into the woods. Cycles. Magic. Life.
As I prepare this post, I wonder about the symbolism of gnat and I ask ‘Dr. Google’. My quick search reveals such meanings as perseverance, transformation, change, and new perspectives. Sounds like more evidence of magic to me!
Moonrise in the Pines