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Indian Flutes and Owls

This world is filled with miracles.  No doubt about it.  My favorites are often the tiny, unexpected ones:  the moment when a beloved child takes her first bite of strawberry ice cream and you watch her face light up the world…an elderly couple holding hands, looking at each other with the same alert passion they must have shared 50 years before…an unexpected check that comes in the mail just when you need it most…Tonight my first miracle was turning on my car & watching its headlights illuminate the new apple blossoms of a nearby tree, then looking above this beautiful “fae” tree at a deep country-sky filled with stars.  The delicacy of white apple blossoms, the mysterious immensity of the night sky and its stars–a miraculous contrast of absolute beauty, connected in spring grandeur. It was–perhaps–a simple linking of two everyday sights.  Yet, tonight, their beauty took my breath away.  It was a moment–and a gift– I will always treasure.

Later, came a second.  Driving tonight, I was fighting sorrow.  One of my favorite clients–a young man of great ability & promise–had allowed his hair-trigger temper to get the better of him & had left for points unknown.  No matter how used one gets to this type of loss, it does not get easier.  Nor is my own life free of challenges right now.  So, I found myself driving on familiar night roads, lost in thought, trying not to sink into despair.  My car rounded a corner & a magnificent spotted owl flew right up in front of me, almost colliding with my windshield.  I have never seen an owl’s face so close–nor seen the power of its wings, arching, pure white against a late night sky.  To be gifted with this sight, to experience the beauty and mystery of this myth-drenched creature, so close to my wounded spirit on this lonely dark moon night…well, it is yet another miracle…another treasure to remind me that the Divine is always with us…that the Universe is ever magnificent and kind…

So, tonight, I sit, writing of Merlin & Gwenhwyfar & Arthur. ..Sipping hot black tea, I am grateful for its sweetness..its comfort in the middle of a somewhat creative night…and I find myself not merely grateful for apple trees…for owls…for the ancientness of stars…I am also recognizing, yearning–and finally knowing that each moment we live we bring new miracles into being…..How glorious, if we were always able to treasure these small & precious moments.  How wondrous life truly is.

A friend has brought some Native American flute music to share—this too, weaves a gentle spell, the flute’s notes reminding me of a time without sidewalks, when forests grew wild, and the wind captured dreams…

May your own dreams be sweet…and may the world gift you well…Enjoy the sweetness of the everyday…

 

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