Yesterday afternoon and again this afternoon, the sun came out. What is more magical than sunshine after so much rain? What is more wonderful than the warmth of it on your back as you sit outside (outside! without getting wet!) and eat your lunch on a stool on a sleepy Sunday afternoon?
And as you sit and soak it in, you soak in everything else, everything and everyone else must surely also be soaking in the long-gone sunshine, drinking it up. You feel the company you’re in, the togetherness of it, the shared experience. And you sink deeper. The softening rush of the creek, and underneath that, or above it, woven with it the drowsy-making whirr and rasp of crickets, surely the greatest spell-makers of all. As soon as I tune into their songs I am transported, deeper into now, it’s as if their voices have little hands, little arms that twine and wrap around me and take me out of my mind and into here. Suddenly, peace is immense and all-powerful, and all the crowding thoughts and concerns and fears and human stuff seem tiny, inconsequential, irrelevant. It’s easy to slip back into the space where human-stuff is all important. Way too easy. But as soon as I tune into the crickets I’m spellbound again, spelled, released from the all-too familiar habit of all-important human-ness.
Home. It loves me. I am blessed.