Fluffy snow & singing birds

I’ve been wandering this morning. In and through and around words, thoughts, imaginings.

There’s a part of me that is feeling dreamy, not unmoored but also not anchored. I feel drawn to many things … a book, a blog, a podcast, a poem, a list of unfinished tasks, the promise of time spent making art …

We had a snowstorm last night. I was outside, walking back from our early morning meditation in another building, seeing neighbors scooping up snow. While I am always appreciative of the labor of my neighbors in clearing snow from our pathways, I noticed the ease with which they were tossing the snow up into central piles. This was not wet, heavy snow but rather light and fluffy. As I took all of that in, I heard a bird singing in a nearby tree.

Fluffy snow and singing birds. There might be a haiku in that. We’ll see.

I notice in the midst of the wandering, I feel happy. Light, like the fluffy snow. Joyful, like the singing bird. My heart feels both peaceful and jubilant.

Sometimes, I imagine peace as the cessation of anxiety. Calm in the midst of worry. Today, I think peace is this moment.

Snowflakes fall slowly,
Drifting onto fluffy piles,
Nearby, a bird sings.