We’ve been blessed with a beautiful day today.  And though I cannot participate in ways I would normally like to, I am able to take in the warmth of the Sun’s rays and the sound of bird song while sitting on my veranda.

I am reminded of Alice of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ sitting against the tree, trying to recite a poem written by Isaac Watts,

Against Idleness And Mischief
Isaac Watts

How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!

How skillfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.

In works of labour or of skill,
I would be busy too;
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.

In books, or work, or healthy play,
Let my first years be passed
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.

Though Alice recites a completely different scene, describing the tale of a crocodile instead of a bee.  It reminds me to look deeper, take time to really consider things we so often overlook.

My husband has brought out our campaign bed from the attic, and moved the furniture around so I can sit with my collection of buddhas and watch my potted weeping crabapple open it’s delicate pink blossoms.  The air, crisp and fragrant, wafts over me like the cool welcoming arms of mother nature, safe in her embrace.  It’s quiet on the street this afternoon and the sounds of the waves splashing against the shore nearby can be heard quite clearly, rocking me as the rays warm my cheeks.

My forsythia has exploded with a spray of canary yellow flowers in its typical messy array, shooting this way and that.  It’s a reminder that chaos is often beautiful, and order is often not found in a natural setting.

Though my nose seems to be perpetually dry and irritated, the fragrance of the cedars, fresh cut lawns and muscari dance around my nostrils; waking my senses, filling my once tired and broken body with a new burst of energy and life I so desperately needed.

I blur my vision a little to appreciate the dazzling green of the grass, the brilliant yellow of the daffodils and the sharp contrast of the fuchsia flowers on the Camellia.

A display so lovely that I earn for my easel to be at arms reach.  I note this desire and plan to have it ready for another day.

My senses are alive and serving me well.  I am invigorated by the fragrance of Spring, enlightening by the sweet sounds of the singing birds, lulled into awareness by the still cool air around me. My eyes dance from tree to shrub pouring over the vivid colours in each bloom and the textures and form of the foliage. I smile as I admire the way the Spruce tree braches fall gracefully over each other and the great willow tree has burst into leaf overhead.

It is true, I am sitting on my veranda, looking out at the homes, cars and street signs I see time and time again.  Though there is little to look upon that is not man made or conjured by man, I can appreciate the natural gifts around me and it brings to me a peace I was missing in my room.

I count my blessings and remember to breathe it all in.  One day I will walk again, for now I am enjoying the simple pleasure of stillness and the subtleties we miss in our busy day to day lives.

Be it a blade of grass or a mighty Sequoia; there is a pattern in nature that knits us all together.  

A connectedness that reminds us of where we came from and where we can return when need to recharge.