And the one who has eyes to see...

Tonight I was out walking for just a wee smidgen of time. It was very good for my soul. Mostly, since coming home, I have felt rather aimless, like I had a whole plethora of things to do, but none of them really mattered in the grand scheme of things, so why bother. It is good to have quiet time to reorient my mind and remember that my life is more than watching TV while waiting for the Big Adventure to start. One of the things I already miss about Houghton is how cut off from nature I feel here. There are no woods, no creeks to splash in, no wildflowers. But it has been good to discover what a vital thing it is to me to connect to the nature that is here. To touch and name the plants and trees, to smell the flowers that are close enough to the sidewalk that I most likely won't get accused of trespassing, to see and hear the birds, without whom the world would feel such a dead place. It is a necessary part of my life to notice things. People laugh because I do things so slowly, from walking to making a sandwich. But I feel like everything I do could be so rich, and becomes rich, when I stop and invest myself fully in the experience. I want to see everything, smell everything, whether it's the mustard on my toasted bread or the jasminy-flowers down by that person's mailbox. I want to remember the lights on that porch, that broken bird's egg, that pine cone. I want to feel the difference in the wind when the weather's changing, to outrun the storm cloud and yet not fear the rain.