I need to make every effort to watch the season carefully. I need to be outdoors, to notice the ever changing landscape which seems to change hourly. The baby greens burst out quickly this year. The contrast from just a few weeks ago is striking. It went from bare to lush. The flowering trees are blooming and the spring flowers have made their appearance. I drive past the park everyday and everyday brings something new. This week a blanket of yellow dandelions dots the landscape.
I sometimes look out the window from my desk and feel like I'm missing it. It's as though I'm allowing another opportunity to slip by and unfortunately, that means another year before spring is here again. Even though I am fully aware of the spring, it's seem like I am admiring it from afar. I've got to go out there and feel it, to be a witness to it.
Because before you know it, six Tuesdays will go by and it will be gone.
Computer or outside.
Technology or Nature.
Small screen or panoramic view.
Scattering distracting minutia or tranquil reflective centering.
I wish I had a laptop, then I can take my technology with me and sit under a quiet shady tree feeling the spring breezes. That would be so pleasant. But that would be making spring background scenery, just a backdrop to my day. It's not really an interaction. And I'm looking for interaction.
I feel it. A NATURE SAFARI is about to commence.
I would highly recommend you take one in the near future. Go on an adventure. Take another human with you, one that would appreciate it. Take binoculars, a camera, a sketch pad. Take a walk in nearby woods or county park. Put on your boots, cross a stream, turn over rocks, look for new growth, get down and dirty.
Speaking about interacting with nature, Smokey, the most zen dog in the universe, will be leaving our care and going back home. Seven weeks are up and my parents will be home on Friday. QueenMaker finds the dog comical and has laughed non-stop for seven weeks. I can't tell if he's laughing at the dog or just laughing because the dog makes him happy.
For sure, one day, when we are old, and starved for affection, or craving for someone or something to accept our love one last time, we will get a dog. Just like Smokey.
So I looked him up. He is a tibetan terrier, which is not a terrier at all. His doggie ancestors were raised by tibetan monks 2000 years ago. No wonder he's so zen. They were temple dogs and considered good luck charms. The monks would never sell the dogs but would often give them as gifts.
It makes me happy. You know the seven degrees of separation? Smokey somehow connects me to the high altitudes of the Tibetan Himalayas, to the yellow and red robes of the monks, and to 2000 year old Buddhist temples. Thanks, dog.
Now when I go visit my parents, will I go to see them or to visit Smokey, the Zen Dog.
"Oh, I'm not here to see you, Mom. Just the dog."
Oh she would love that. First she would give me that look to see if I was serious. Then she would pretend to be hurt. I can hear her now. Then every time I came over after that she would direct me to the dog, because of course, her daughter is not here to see her. I don't care about her, just the dog. She would announce to the dog, "your mother's here." Hey! Oh, it would go on for weeks and weeks.
Although I will miss the dog for about a minute, rest assured, my heart will not suffer any "Smoke Damage" when he leaves.
(Yes, I said it. Been trying to work that in for weeks.)
So if I haven't damaged you with my rather lengthy random post, work your way over to Keely at UnMom for more Random Tuesday Thoughts.