I resonate with the beautiful image of “the fertile quiet.” When something within is finished, or frozen, or even devoured, we are invited to pause in that moment of transition and listen to the sound of what is no longer present. Thank you for your post and your eloquent way with words.
I’ve been finding my attention falling on the quiet signals of post solstice growth — willow buds forming, green tulip shoots emerging, daphne flowers glacially forming. And also on observing the slow decay of mushrooms, the changing mud of ceased burrowing, the skies absent of our migratory geese, the colors shifting even more fully and starkly gray
I resonate with the beautiful image of “the fertile quiet.” When something within is finished, or frozen, or even devoured, we are invited to pause in that moment of transition and listen to the sound of what is no longer present. Thank you for your post and your eloquent way with words.
Thank you Mary for your kind words! I loved the invitation to pause during transitions 🙂
What a powerful and useful response. Thank you.
I’ve been finding my attention falling on the quiet signals of post solstice growth — willow buds forming, green tulip shoots emerging, daphne flowers glacially forming. And also on observing the slow decay of mushrooms, the changing mud of ceased burrowing, the skies absent of our migratory geese, the colors shifting even more fully and starkly gray
You are welcome. The natural world lives more fully because you capture her every sigh. I’m reminded to be with her today as you are.