The warm sunny days of May lift me within. I noticed when riding my bicycle through the redwoods yesterday in shirt sleeves the pockets of cool air woven together with those of warmth. The mountains are filled with flowers, some from busy gardeners and some from busy mother nature. Purples, reds, oranges, blues, and many yellows, all looking bright, dignified, and as if put in place for a grand celebration. On bicycle I can more easily stop along the road long enough to look at the tinier things that compose a forest. The freeways and main roads of town are jammed with many people going in many directions, but wherever they are going I do not feel excluded when I come into these mountains looking for tranquility.
Older daughter J. celebrated a birthday this past week. I can hardly believe time keeps rolling like waves from the open sea. I have to tell myself frequently that the end of life comes closer each day. Of course it does. On her birthday I am reminded of my finite limits, causing me to question my priorities. If I do not remain mindful and appreciative of the gift of life I can so easily get side-tracked into being busy merely for the sake of activity and movement. I see greater poetry in being reflective rather than busy.