Lilies and Birdsong

I open my eyes to Stinson Beach this morning.  I’ve cracked the back door - letting in the chilly fragrant morning air - eucalyptus and sea and California.  Yesterday was a glorious clear bright sky day- so beautiful it made my heart hurt.  The sun shining over the Golden Gate; its rays piercing through the bright blue, landing on the hills and the sea and red metal and tourists.  Alllllll the people heading to the beach to capture those rays. The warmth of the day creating electricity in them - these people that are so used to fog and gray and drizzle. The birds sing in either temperature, praising all that is around them.  They only need a sliver of daylight to sing.  

I will file this away for a time when I need it.  Singing. Only needs daylight.    

Today is gray again, the fog hanging heavy over the mountains.  The giant calla lilies cover the backyard; their fragrance hanging heavy in the air, lighting up the sky with their white brilliance.  The birds still sing.  The day is calling to me - come and play with me. Reminding me to open my eyes. Breathe in the wonder.  Wrap my arms around the stillness.  And the trunk of a redwood. Sing. 

I was lucky enough to stumble on a Mary Oliver poem this morning as I drank my coffee and listened to the birds and watched the sunrise.

When I am Among the Trees

When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines - They give off such hints of gladness I would almost say that they save me, and daily.  I’m so distant from the hope of myself in which I have goodness and discernment and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often.  Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out - stay awhile.  The light flows from their branches and they call again.  It’s simple they say, and you too have come into the world to do this , to go easy, to be filled with light.  and to shine.  

You can listen to it here, read by Amanda Palmer

https://soundcloud.com/brainpicker/amanda-palmer-reads-when-i-am-among-the-trees-by-mary-oliver

My favorite part….. and bow often.