Who said things have come to a standstill?

Who said things have come to a standstill?

The daffodils opened a few weeks ago

'Fluttering and dancing in the breeze', 

They whisper tales of hope

When I went out for a walk in the woods,

I spotted a yellow and white bedecked carpet

And felt my heart leap

As the wildflowers hummed cheerful tunes from forest beds

The birds have laid eggs

In the exhaust vent from my kitchen hood

Their constant chirrups punctuate the quiet of my kitchen

As dishes sauté and simmer on my warm stove

Last evening, I spotted a little bunny

Camouflaged by sage stubble

Nibbling tender grass in my backyard,

The kit hopped around with measured caution

A tiny squirrel appeared on the fence

Watching and thinking-

‘This little fella on the ground looks like me,

He may have bigger ears, but for sure my tail's bushier’

Thinking such thoughts, it lingered for a minute

And, jumped onto the pine tree

Thinking more thoughts -

‘More things to do, more cones to nibble…’

Who said things have come to a standstill?

The Meaning and Beauty of Fall

Fall is here and everyday when I step out, my surroundings remind me of the brevity of life. And more.

Over the long weekend, I had been to Ottawa to see the fall colors up close and personal. Though this is not my first fall in the North American soil, every time I see nature wear her shades of fall, I am enthralled.

I tell my kids- look at her. She knows this parade of colors isn't forever. She puts up her best fall show while knowing fully well about its impermanence. Who else could tell us about the fleeting nature of all things beautiful and endearing?

More than just the evanescence, the story of the fallen leaves is a lesson in leaving, in saying goodbye gracefully. When the leaves fall, they don't fall all at once, but leaf by leaf. Or, in batches, giving us ample time to watch them fall in rhythm. Unless the wind takes them here and there, they stay put, under the shade of the tree that's bracing for the stillness ahead.

In nature's instruction manual, the leaves must disappear and become one with the earth that holds the tree, her roots and her bark. But in a city-dweller's rule book, they are to be cleaned, packed and sent away to rot in a faraway pile. While the tree looks on, her leaves are taken away.

A tree produces the leaves that it needs. It's a step in her development and growth. It's to play her role in in the larger scheme of things, of life and nourishment. But interestingly, she takes responsibility for what she produces. She uses it to put out another leaf, a bud, a fruit. In a self-sustaining forest system, the trees provide for each other.

It perplexes me how we don't take responsibility for what we create, produce or use. We have redefined nature's laws of impermanence and brevity. Some of the things that we produce, use and throw, stay on the surface of earth for hundreds of years. We are okay with it. We don't even stop to think about it. We think it's someone else's problem. The day we stop to think and take a pause is not far. Hope!