I feel guilty that I do not have time to write. That I do not have the time to read all of these wonderful writings. I feel awful.
I'm not going to go on and on about all the things I am too busy doing, because that is pointless. What I am going to tell you, is how I am reminded about the wonderful things to slow down for.
I grew up with a love of 'oldies' music. Nowadays, I'm afraid if I turn on 'oldies' music they play songs from the 90's, and I'm like, what?? I'm talking about the 40's-early 70's. I love my Sirius xm because then I can throw on Cousin Brucie and sing along.
You know that song, 'The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy)' by Simon and Garfunkel?
'Slow down, you move too fast. You got to make the morning last.'
It's in your head now, and you're singing it, right?
Ok. So we've had a weird spring. The snow melting caused flooding. Then the sun came and the creek dropped a little. Then we had a day of 30C. The boy and I decided to throw on our running shoes and take our new puppies into the creek. We stopped studying and headed out. The sun was hot. The grass wasn't even green yet. We went up the hill, over the cow fence, and down the hill through prickly ash, and into the creek. It was only shin deep but it felt so good! The sun beat down on us because the leaves weren't out yet. And not one insect. Not one! We explored for a bit and I looked at my watch, remembered I had so much more to do. I was about to call the boy to tell him we had to head back but... he was already up the creek aways, and found a little waterfall. So I followed him. We were two mountaineers with our hands and feet crawling up the 4' waterfall that trickled. We hopped from moss-covered stone to moss-covered stone, dipping our hands into the cold water, throwing crackers to the puppies so they wouldn't wander off. After half an hour, I looked at my watch again, and then we kept going. The sun was so gloriously hot! We tightrope walked on old fallen white pine logs, we kicked dead cedar branches off of trees, we picked at cedar roots that were a bright red for some reason. We hiked up the grassy hill and found about a hundred raspberry bushes. We walked through them, scratching our legs, to the top of the crevice and the wind met us.
We eventually came back, put our socks and shoes outside in the sun to dry and had a snack. We still had math and french to do. The puppies needed a nap. I had supper to figure out.
The next day, we went kayaking in our creek and I fell in. It was cold.
The next day, the creek was low. Very low. And it was colder out.
For the past two days, it has been raining steadily. The creek has completely flooded our hayfields. Homes on the outskirt of Ottawa are actually flooding. In Ottawa! They've actually closed two major highways from Ottawa to Hull. Unheard of!
This morning, it snowed.
I'm sure I don't have to point out the moral here.
"Hello lamppost, what cha knowing? I've come to watch your flowers growing."
In Psalms 1:3, it says, "He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season..." I can tell you that the trees down by the creek were well planted. And despite my busyness of being too busy to be busy, I choose to be like a tree, planted well into the ground.
So. What are you going to slow down for, today?
|Walk before the sun came out.|
|Large white pine. Puppies up on hill, eating deer poop.|