A Softer Day

Colder today. Clouds under clouds. Rain darkening stones and blackening the bare trees. It seems just right.

A softer day, more delicate, more suited for April. No hard ground, no dust on the road, no strong light burning the skin.

The dome of sky opalescent, like the inside of an oyster shell, but rich with grays like the birds that have wintered with us -- the nuthatches, chickadees, titmice, and slate-colored juncos -- reminds us we will see snow in the air still. And besides, the juncos are still here.

A day of subtlety when the small openings of color in the woods, like the tiny blooms of the spice bush, seem to shine.


An easier pace, and it calms us. All things in their time.

Time for the leaves to open over the woodland floor.

Time for the fields to rise over the voles and the rabbits and the countless small life forms of the world at our feet.

Time for us to pause in the day and regain our astonishment at consciousness.

copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved