small moments drawn from the quiet

I look up, and the trees have gone to green, as if in the moment before I looked, as if all their new soft green leaves are an exhalation of their winter dreams.

At the last minute, I keep walking, avoiding the cheerful checkout operator - waiting a little longer in a different queue. Some days, I don't want cheerfulness. It's not from being morose, but from being peacefully subdued.

A new bird is outside my window, singing a song so lovely I wonder if it has just learned of God.

I open the window to the sea wind and discover that it's become ordinary to me, all its storm story an old story now, like the feeling of home. Rain is falling soft outside, gentling the dusk. Nothing ever feels more right than rain.

I find wisteria where yesterday there was nothing.

I remember rambling as a child through the tangled roots of small, dark hills and it seems to me, almost half a century later, that I must have found some magic half-buried there, and tucked it into my heart, and so I carry the hills with me, regardless of shorelines and cities and time.

9 comments:

  1. I loved the pause to savour part1, but tonight I am bursting to read on, and loving every word. Just as well I have the complete juxtaposition of an unwatched Dr Who to distract me from my thirst for your story. I hope your wisteria is a little bit wistful for you and not too clumpy in it's purpleness, it can be a little like the overly cheerful checkout on occasion ;-)

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    1. Thank you, thank you, kind feedback like this gives me such energy to keep writing :-)

      I'm honestly not the biggest fan of wisteria, I don't really like purple and I don't clike clumpy flowers, except peonies. (Peonies are like the Mongols - always the exception!) But it's lovely to see it appear like magic from the old winter emptiness.

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  2. i sometimes avoid that checkout person too. not all joy requires a fanfare :)

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  3. "I don't want cheerfulness. It's not from being morose, but from being peacefully subdued."
    You have no idea, just how much I can identify with this. :-)

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  4. Thank you all for your comments :-)

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  5. Finding your blog has been a delight. Utterly calming....vivid images....thank you.

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  6. Sarah, this writing is exquisite. I feel sometimes like you're writing just for me....like you are in my heart and my head and know exactly how I feel.
    It's always a pleasure when I see a new post from you.

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    1. Thank you, what a kind and beautiful compliment. I am writing just for you. I honestly believe when we write from the heart of life, the words are medicine for whoever needs them.

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  7. Lovely writing - it's a wonderful feeling to feel peace.

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