a Tiny description

a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.


Wednesday, September 20, 2006

sensing it

if you had to make a choice, which of your senses would you give up? somedays i think i'd love to be "sense-less" as the smell of dirty socks and the sight of the towering laundry hamper taunt me. but then i think of what i'd miss....the crisp, balsamy smell of the fall forest - just on the cusp of turning to full nostril-assault overload....and the leaves - the brilliance of the reds, greens, umber, amber, yellow - colors unable to be duplicated by anyone other than Nature herself - a thousand shades of each, changing as the sun shifts; changing as the morning mist lifts off the lake revealing a new dew-soaked world as Nature checks her closet to see what to wear that day; the sun rising and reflecting her choice across the water, ripples like corduroy....the shriek of the blue jay and insistant 1-note call of the cardinal mingle with the raucous laugh of the woodpecker and chatter of the finches and sparrows as squirrels fuss and squawk at one another running rings up and down the tree trunks - to not hear that symphony ever again would surely be a punishment....wild raspberry bushes prickle out onto the path - a few deep, rich purple berries still cling to their spiky branches waiting for the birds and squirrels and chipmunks to finish their final gleaning before the winter cover....i reach for one, grasping the bumpy fruit gently and hold it in my hand for the slightest moment, then pop it into my mouth - the sweet tangy juice bursting across my tongue - a gift, a moment to hold. my dog begs for whatever it is that i have and i share another with her - she, not as impressed, and suddenly needing to be held. i run my fingers through her curls and soft fur. her eyes half-closed as she leans into me and puts her head on my shoulder and sighs. the fur on her head soft and straight and silky, her neck curly and twisty ringlets, and her body thick already as her winter coat grows in. a frog plops into the stream nearby and the spell is broken as she darts off to explore. which of these moments - these gifts - could i do without...would i not miss? i'm thankful for each and all, and grateful most that the decision is ficticious...an exercise created only to make me appreciate what i have and use and so often assume is a given. l.

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