Learning not to be afraid to slow down the moments and actually see them.
I want to remember the details.
I stop to listen to the geese honking. I hear them before I see them coming over the horizon. I notice the gray blue of a winter-like sky. If colors could actually be cold, then this would be the one. I can’t see the sun behind the clouds, but I know it is there because of the pink tinge around the clouds. No blazing sunset this evening, only the soft pale glow around the cold.
I hear the crunch of the snow as I trudge over to the barn, the air is crisp…and so still. Although, sounds carry so well in the cold I stop and I listen to the stillness.
I notice the barn across the road, perfectly silhouetted between the barren limbs of the trees. Although it is still November, the golden yellows and oranges are long replaced with empty gray branches. Currier and Ives has nothing on the picture set before me.
I take note of the warm puddle of light, splashed through the kitchen window as I walk back to the house, inviting me back inside. Inside where I see my daughter stirring the pot of vegetable soup for me, steam rising. Dinner almost ready.
The stresses of the day melt away.
I still have things to do. I have a lot on my schedule….but, slowing down allows me to appreciate more.
The seemingly little things become the big things…and life is more.
Thank you God, for the gift of slowing down.