Feeling the Wind

I went running a couple times last week.  I woke up early, before sunrise these days, and started down the driveway in the gray of early morning.  The crickets were still loud and the barn was quiet.  Just as I hit the street, Roof Top crowed.  It was precisely dawn according to my App; but certainly if I had no technology it would have been clear, even from one moment to the next.  It's stunning how suddenly the day can dawn after such a gentle approach.  Besides the rooster's crow there was also the soft transition from crickets to bird song.  The sun came through the trees at the end of the field and melted the dew that crystalized the surfaces of the spider webs, making them look like clear glass plates broken in a thousand tiny pieces.  The horse across the street stomped its hooves and I smiled as I continued on.

After my run I checked on the pumpkins in the field.  As I bent down to look under the canopy of pumpkin leaves I was stopped short by the noise.  The field that we had plowed for the garlic had been overtaken by weeds, predominantly a small white-budded flower.  I squatted down and gazed across the field, just above weed level, and marveled at the site of a bee on every flower.  Thousands of them.  I was inordinately pleased with our accidental bee garden.  We had also recently realized how many monarch butterflies were breeding in our fields over the summer since we decided not to cut the fields. The milkweed was left to grow and the butterflies with it.

Recently, J told me that he was connected to the wind.  I've seen him stand stock still as a breeze sways the trees - like a statue of a little boy. "I can feel it inside my body, like it's a part of me.  Not like other people, Mom."

It is all these things that I love.  My son and his wind.  Butterflies and bees.  The dew melting at dawn.  The quiet of the ending night.  The crows and stomps and titters of a new day.

It's all I ever have to say because it is what moves me.

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