I walk every morning. Four miles round-trip. For seven-plus years.
Through dog days, sprinkling dawns, and all the in-betweens, I trod the sidewalks that jut east and west from our house.
What began as a long-ago journey to wellness evolved this past week into a higher calling.
A trio of sunrises explains.
The last image there shocked, then stopped, me into awe. Absolute silence.
In 2555 days of walks (yes, I counted), I’ve n.e.v.e.r. stopped for Mother Nature. These aren’t pleasure trips I’m taking.
Leaving the house and race-walking down the driveway, my eyes aim down at concrete and my feet speed to pounding. I’m a woman on a four-mile mission that continued good health demands.
At least I was. Spying this profoundly beautiful sight, I nearly dropped to my knees. Instead, a verbal wave of thankyouthankyouthankyou rolled off my tongue as I stood in grateful silence, eyes tear-filled.
In succeeding mornings, other visitors stepped forward.
Seeds planted by DH bloomed for the first time. Last week. With my favorite color.
Previous years, we started with flowering plants: easier, faster. Something about retirement encourages new ventures.
This second set of blooms burst forth two days later.
The pair of colors grabbed my attention. How did that happen from a single sack of seeds?
Upon seeing the blooms, I ran to our backyard garden. It’s filled with DH’s beloved rose bushes. A dozen of them.
Can you see why?
The glistening spider’s web spoke of little things making their way in the world, too. Then I asked: when’s the last time I saw such a perfect web? And why today?
The real synchronicity of all this comes after learning that an article I wrote about my walking and writing practice will be published this fall. In a national magazine. Oh my. This news arriving when it did reinforced the near-holiness of all this timing.
Amid the thrill is the bigger message: sometimes, noticing leads to wonderful surprises.
It starts here: Open your Eyes.