blinded by the light
The best thing I did this week was the run I didn’t have time for.
Some weeks are like that, so filled with work and responsibilities, that you forget to look up, enjoy life. You forget to breathe.
I did have a few hours with my husband and my windmills on Tuesday, and in many ways, THAT was the best part of the week, but then the next thing I knew, it was Friday afternoon and my body just started screaming at me: run. I haven’t been in several weeks, all this gardening has been tough on my knees, but I haven’t done that this week either and my knees were feeling fine. My carpal tunnel on the other hand… oh my. My body needed to move.
And so, despite the fact that it would mean working later on a Friday than I wanted to, I got my gear on and headed to the trail. Before I even started running, as I was walking for my warm-up, I spotted a pair of cedar waxwings just above my head, doing the sweetest little courtship dance. The were snuggling and chirping, bobbing and dancing, ruffling up the crests on their heads. Acting like love birds. And just like that, there was a big smile on my face.
It was a good run, 4.5 miles, which these days, for me, is quite a feat. The weather was just perfect, not too hot, clear and sunny, and I felt myself breathing again, taking in the green and the trees and sun. Feeling alive.
On my way back down the trail, as I was walking to cool off, a Baltimore oriole landed in a bush right next to me and started eating berries. Another bird I rarely see, and he stayed for several minutes, not at all concerned about my presence as he ate his fill.
It was the day of beautiful birds. And I was happy.
I went home and finished the work I had left to do, and finally, much later than I would have liked, made it outside to sit in the garden with a glass of wine and Ben Webster in the background. As I sat there with a purring kitten in my lap, exhausted and content, I spotted a dragonfly in the stones a few feet away.
At first I thought it was just resting, it fluttered its wings every so often, but after some time had passed and it didn’t move, I went to investigate. I saw no visible damage, and picked it up on a stick and placed it on a hydrangea bush with big, soft, green leaves, but clearly, the end was near. I sprinkled some water on the leaf it rested on, and knew that I was witnessing the death of a dragonfly.
A small death in the grand scheme of things, very small, really. And yet, I was filled with sadness.
So much in this life we take for granted. Some days, some weeks, just the simple fact that we are here, alive.
Just one tiny afternoon filled with tiny miracles and tiny tragedies.
And big, big lessons.
June 9th, 2012 at 11:23 am
Wow, I live less than forty miles from Baltimore, and I’ve never seen a Baltimore oriole. So many miracles, deep miracles, because you aren’t blinded by the lite.
June 9th, 2012 at 12:53 pm
a lucky dragonfly to have you standing by as witness. a good friday.
June 9th, 2012 at 4:06 pm
[…] light and dark joyous and grieving accepting and […]
June 9th, 2012 at 4:32 pm
i admit to being totally smitten with birds. i spend too much time on the porch watching them. we feed orioles so see them many times each day. their LOUD shrill is hard to miss. i have never witnessed the death of a dragonfly, that i recall, but our country road is filled with butterflies, as our flower gardens and farm fields are full. when i see one hit by a car, i am saddened. yes, the miracles and the sadness all in a short day. beautifully written Mrs M.
in fondest,tilda
June 9th, 2012 at 5:28 pm
The dragonfly story is so sad. By the way, I always say this but you strike me as highly NOT mediocre. But the title is inviting and it makes people like me feel that you are approachable. Thank you for sharing:)
June 10th, 2012 at 12:38 am
You haven’t run in several weeks and your ran 4.5 miles… and lived to write about it. I am VERY impressed 😉 Glad you were able to get out.
Have a great weekend, jj
June 10th, 2012 at 8:37 am
What an incredibly touching post, full of the small wonders from your day – both joyful and sad.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:08 am
Nature can be such a balm for what ails us, whether it’s running (or walking in my case). I’m always sad when I witness a death but have to remember that it’s just all part of the way things are.
June 10th, 2012 at 8:53 pm
tiny miracles
and tiny tragedies…you’ve good eyes
to see, friend:)
-Jennifer
June 10th, 2012 at 10:47 pm
I’m so glad the dragonfly was with you at its end. You noticed and cared. Thanks for the beautiful reminder.
June 11th, 2012 at 1:09 am
wow..big lessons indeed…and they often come in unexpected moments..the death of the dragonfly made me a bit sad as well…good to be reminded to be more thankful for the good things in life and don’t take them for granted
June 11th, 2012 at 7:10 am
absolutely lovely capture of the moments…the passing of the dragon fly is solemn a bit in the peace and your gentleness with it in thought and action…glad you got that run as well as it sounds like it was just what you needed…
June 11th, 2012 at 9:35 pm
somedays, the everydayness of it all, is really what it’s all about 🙂
June 13th, 2012 at 12:29 pm
Beautiful touching post.