Snow blankets the ground Perhaps our final Colorado springtime dump The bright blue skies and piercing sun lapping up the The white covering Determined to guide the spring to bloom Transitioning snow to water To bring forth new life
It’s quiet here No planes in the sky Except for one small private jet A recreational voyage The whir of its motor
Cracking across the silent sky
The geese have mated Resting in pairs Waiting for their offspring to arrive calling across the pond to their flock as they reunite perfectly coordinated in the sky Transitioning land to air In perfect union
My baby rests against my chest Cozy core to core Our creature bodies co-regulating Suckling as she falls into slumber
The stillness magnified by the white covering Muted yet so loud The natural world animated
Transition Nature in its process Of shifting from one state to the next The blooms have not yet popped Except for a few bold daffodils and crocuses Courageously breaking ground Do they know they might freeze?
The landscape here holds much of the winter brown Reappearing as the whiteness fades There is no arrival point As nature moves in constant flow This covering, winter’s encore performance Before spring makes her full debut of fanfare. Of exploding colors And pollens and fragrances Wafting through the air.
Change is here, always. But how, And when, And what, Can only be revealed as the snow melts. It’s not for us to know yet.
Our fears thaw out We come into presence Mobilizing into alignment With what’s here now As the ice melts away There’s increased movement Puddles and flowing rivers And birds Swimming gracefully across the waters.
White pelicans have arrived. To me it seems quite early. But they are following their innate rhythm Up from the gulf to find food and solace in our ponds Ocean to pond Transition To new terrain
A hawk soars above us surveying the land Transition Air to tree limb Not getting ahead of itself As it gracefully glides onto a branch.
My eyes are caught by movement in the water. Tail up to the sky as a duck stabs its beak into the liquid, bringing
a snack back to the surface. A Robin has found where the snow has melted and the earth has softened Allowing her to poke her beak into the mud Playing tug of war With the worm she’s pulling up from underground.
As I walk I feel myself synch back up into the rhythm of this outdoor wonderland. Contemplating the transition we are in.
I notice my steps, one in front of the other, one step leading the next. Just as I’ve been witnessing my baby’s first steps in her body. The earth giving slightly with the weight of my foot imprinting, proof that I have taken a step.
The soft wind blowing ripples across the pond movement Water giving life, the necessary cycles of the way things are. Thawing out, so something new can birth.
Snow plops off the branches surrendering into its changing form, sliding down limbs as it liquefies, clapping into the water. Its sound rippling, disrupting the seeming stillness of the pond.
Each movement in nature serving the next serving the whole
Each choice we make as humans with the potential to serve the whole what will we choose In this most holiest of times? Of transition
Choosing life, also means honoring and acknowledging death. Just as nature completes her cycles, to rebirth again.
Messy and muddy as the clean crisp white merges with the dark soil, as the palette mixes creating various shades of brown.
The contrast blending together, working together, the white shining brightly polarized by it’s rich dark counterpart. We cannot have light without dark, we cannot have spring without winter, we cannot have birth without death.
My baby awakens from her slumber, recharged, with fresh eyes seeing the world anew. Following her natural rhythm of wakefulness and activity, and rest, when she needs it Her natural rhythm honored.
We have downshifted as a species, from a pace that had gotten so disconnected from natural timing, perhaps this slowing down gives room for a new life, new direction, right rhythm In harmony with all
What will we choose in this Transition?
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