There is a little lady in our house who would have loved to have stood on the bridge and watched the birds with you. It has become something of a daily ritual to stand at the window and greet them and watch their morning flight. Their movement, their unexpected arrival and departure, their coming and their going, a source of wonderment. We watch without many words, content with the quiet. She is teaching me much about stopping and looking up.
No comments:
Post a Comment