It’s October. This morning a soft mild breeze brought down 100 yellow leaves, tossing and turning them before they landed with a papery sound on the driveway. I saw Walter Kitty looking up, up, up, his head turning this way and that, watching the leaves. His first autumn.
The way water reflects colorful leaves and sunshine, like a stained glass window, is breathtaking. Every scene is much lovelier than a video, or painting, or a photograph. There are no smells of earth, or sounds of nature, in a mere picture.
“Woman’s life today is tending more and more toward the state William James describes so well in the German word, ‘Zerrissenheit–torn-to-pieces-hood.’ She cannot live perpetually in ‘Zerrissenheit.’ She will be shattered into a thousand pieces. On the contrary, she must consciously encourage those pursuits which oppose the centrifugal forces of today. Quiet time alone, contemplation, prayer, music, a centering line of thought or reading, of study or work. It can be physical or intellectual or artistic, any creative life proceeding from oneself. It need not be an enormous project or a great work. But it should be something of one’s own. Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day–like writing a poem, or saying a prayer. What matters is that one be for a time inwardly attentive.”
Gift from the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, page 56
Like most mothers, my days are busy from start to finish. Yesterday even more so. The children didn’t have school so I left a list of chores for David and Sarah to complete while I was gone, and took Caleb, along with Seth, to his orthopedic doctor’s appointment, 45 minutes away through morning rush hour city traffic. The appointment was over an hour long in a tiny room, mostly waiting, with Caleb leaving twice for xrays. We left with the orders that he could not throw anymore until his shoulder heals, as he has what’s commonly called “Little League Shoulder”, which means that the growth plate in the shoulder is inflammed by over-use in throwing baseballs and footballs. Ironically, I was suffering from a stiff neck all day and still am this morning. We ate lunch, relieved to finally know why Caleb’s shoulder was hurting and happy that with rest it should heal up nicely. We did some shopping and came home with just enough time to get ready for music lessons, and then on to football and cheerleading practice. Then, loud and happy goofing around in the house afterwards as they ate a bedtime snack, took showers, and David chased the family pets around the house, scaring them half to death with his dragon hand puppet.
In the midst of this day of mine, I took out my camera and enjoyed God’s lovely world in the small green grassy yard by the music building downtown. Seth and I saw a pretty creek, trees with bright leaves, unusual mushrooms, and we took each other’s picture.
Now I’m taking a quiet moment to write here, feet up on the coffee table and dishwasher running in the kitchen, and I’m quite positive Anne Morrow Lindbergh would approve.
My goodness Shanda! Someday you MUST write a book! You have such a way with words (and photos)
Thank you! I’ve been told that a few times lately from completely different people!
Now that has to be hard for a boy to not be able to throw a ball! And I agree with the comment above 🙂
He’s been throwing with his left arm!