It is cooler on this fine morning in the middle of August, and the casement windows are open. A slight breeze stirs the draperies, and as I tap away here on the keyboard with a large mug of Java nearby, I can hear day beginning in the village, the community awakening and coming to life around the little blue house and its guardian trees.
The music of a classic northern August sunrise is geese in flight, and I am listening to them with gratitude this morning. To and fro go the great birds in exuberant flight, away into the farm fields at dawn to feed, converse and gossip together, then down to the river at nightfall to rest.
This is the glorious music of the seasons and the turning year, this is Gaia's perfect orchestration. This is the music of what happens. Listen, can you hear it?
Written for the blithe mamas at Mama Says Om.
2 comments:
Cate, what an incredible picture. The bird and its reflection are perfect.
I too feel the turning of the seansons and love this photo of the bird.
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