I'm not quite sure what to make of it, but it is interesting...

On my way to work this morning, I saw a mourning dove, standing over and watching a squished frog in the road. ODD! And as I drove up closer, the dove did not move, simply watched the frog, mesmerized. It stood about a foot away from the frog and as I slowly approached ---in my JEEP, I was about a foot away from it...and STILL it did not move or even flinch, but stayed there, silent, still, mourning, watching. A sentinel, an angel of passage.

I've been driving topless in the Jeep this week (YEAY!!!), so my world is closer to me. I love that! I BECOME the sunshine, the wind in my hair, the smells of my world as I travel from place to place. Mourning doves are mystical creatures and ever since the one died in my hands this February, I feel connected to them. We are one as his energy and mine became entangled as his last breath left his warm body. I cried and cried and buried him in my back yard...but he is still with me...every day, and this morning, we watched a squished frog...and mourned and sang our goodbyes.

My mornings are usually quiet reflections, musings... as I watch the day come to life in my backyard. The sun, she is my alarm clock. I haven't used an electronic one in OH SO LONG...and don't miss it one bit. But, AH, Sister Sun's rays touch me softly, stirring me, urging me to open my eyes and see her glory rise. In winter, she rises at the south side of my bedroom windows, and slowly as the earth wobbles through the season, she migrates from window to window until now...she is eye level as she crests the earth's horizon, past the grass, through the trees and ever skyward, ever up. I greet her with a good morning, make coffee and then nestle into my favorite spot on the chaise to watch my morning symphony, my cast of characters start their day in my backyard stage...and I start mine.

Some characters are constant companions, like Mr. Squirrel who crosses the telephone wire running at the back of the yard...like clockwork, every morning, from south to north, everyday. And I say, "Good Morning" to him/her every morning as he/she scampers across, eager to start the day. Some characters come occasionally like the 5 deer (all female) who always take the same path, turn the same way, follow the same leader. Another routine, ritual, community shared. And I thank them when they share their morning with me.

But this mornings musing was about a seasonal set of characters...Sunflowers, which have sprung up unexpectantly around my septic tank in my back yard. Magnificent to see as the sun reflects back their beauty, their resilience, their strength. In winter and early spring, I had thrown bird seeds out for passersby...and after the rains, these few took root and decided to make my backyard their home. Yeay for me! I watched them grow...and grow and grow. Taller each day..and interestly always facing the sun, facing east, just as I do. I remember when I was younger, I would love to pick wildflowers. They were always my favorite, wild, free. My fondest romantic memories was when I got "median bouquets" from my boyfriend, handpicked with love. Over the last years, I've stopped picking flowers - all flowers. Not because I don't love them, but because I do. Now I want to see them grow, see their beauty and let them BE FLOWERS and not simply a snapshot of my own selfish indulgence. These sunflowers reminded me of that...of how they broke through the rocky soil, stretched to great the sun, grew strong and tall..and now, how some are starting to age, so be full of seeds for the next generation and how eventually they will give those seeds back to the rocky soil, an offering for a glorious life lived and then they themselves will lay back down into the same soil that gave them life and nourish the seedlings that they placed there for safekeeping. And life continues, always. So it is with Sunflowers, So it is with my sister, so it will be with me. Thank you Mother Earth for your lessons, your love, your nourishing Sun and Flowers. Thank you.