From Under the Birch Tree
As I lugged my stuffed granny cart home I stopped a few times to watch a basketball game, and then a baseball game in the field across the street, continuing on with people-watching who are carrying on with their business. I stopped time to be in the moment and lie down on the cool stiff grass and feel the sun on my face warming my cheeks to pink, smelling the Bay water and noting the tingle of dampness on my skin. I breathed deeply to fill my lungs and my spirit with purified, moist air. With my eyes shut, my head filled with the sounds of clicking bicycle wheels. The whizzing of in-line skaters became loud in my ears, interrupted by the barking of dogs.
After battling a frustrating cold all week, (of which I am never sick so when I am, I have no patience for it.) I had enough energy and determination to venture out this morning for a run/walk. I had been sitting on my butt all week, not only to take it easy but to succumb to the rainy, windy weather. With skies brilliantly clear today, I challenged my immune system and the cold morning with bodily movement.
Though the crisp, cold air stung my working labored lungs, I was grateful for the day. I could even feel freckles popping on my nose and cheekbones as the sun lifted higher and landed on my face. I welcomed the warmth. A skunk left it’s stinky tell-tale odor to linger just so I could run into it, no doubt – the odor, not the skunk. The droning noise of the approaching rush hour traffic under the overpass broke the silence I was paired with.
Though I am not quite back to full health, my sensory overload this morning was a lesson in gratitude. I thought that was the best health I could be having now.