On a single Tuesday: six bursts of rain, one downpour of hail, three brief sunbreaks, ongoing gusts of tepid breeze, two stable hours (not in a row) of light gray cloud cover, and
I went to the dinnertime window to admire the textures and colors of new red leaves and vivid green moss covering the limbs of two neighborly trees that were standing against the deep charcoal sky and yellowing air,
smiling at the beauty, pausing to breathe and inhale, feeling gratitude swell in my hungry guts,
when – like a gift-wrapped present on an humdrum day, or a loan of a book from a caring friend, or the kind hello from a stranger entering my exit –
one rainbow – so arced, so wide, so unexpected, so buoyant – seemed to grow out of one tree’s foliage, to rise up and over the tall firs – apparently touching (and healing) the bruise of a sky – and plunged down across the forest
where perhaps that pot of gold really does sit nestled under the bed in which the coyotes lay last night,
where perhaps that sacred promise of long ago is unfurling its buds,
where perhaps all the ugly nuisances decompose into rich soil fodder to nourish the season’s early growth
and on the rest of the days this week, add:
* one window-struck Easter junco who rallies, wobbly – with two other juncos watching over him, before flying off
* the flicker drumming his bill against the metal drainpipe
* a downy woodpecker drilling into the alder for his afternoon fare
* a flock of swallows checking out a bird house
* one fat crow pecking at something gruesome on the ground
* the first casualty of the season: light-blue robin egg cracked open on the asphalt, life potential smattered in disappointment
* a soaring eagle overhead: present as my client tells his story, absent as soon as the story ends
* fresh-feathered robins, gaily singing so so so loud in the morning, such a welcome pronouncement of a blessed new day
* the chip, tu-weet, skaaaw, zzzzssss, lehluulelele…of avians unseeable
* a hawk with fingerlike feathers spread across the azure sky.
One ordinary woman observes the (mostly-) jubilant awakenings on a small patch of soil on Earth.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2019 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
