I have spent a great deal of time this last week pondering, musing. Internal, quiet reflection about things that have happened in the past, how things are now and with that – bright flashes of epiphanies as I connect the mental dots and discover some “whys” when it comes to my idiosyncrasies. I’m left with feelings of my world having been rocked and yet, I also have a satisfaction at finally having discovered the source of things I’ve always considered to be quirks.
There is a great deal of relief in finding answers to questions you didn’t really have until life events come along. Do not worry, Dear Readers – I am quite happy with my discoveries and look forward to what I find in the future. That elusive and unknown future is always interesting. But first – the present.
This morning as breakfast baked, I sat at the dining table reading the March/April issue of Sierra Magazine (yes, I’m a member of the Sierra Club) and as I looked up and out the patio door to the woods and fields beyond, I saw what appeared to be a large bird of prey sitting in the middle of the field. It was perfectly framed between two tall oak trees and appeared to be sitting idle, watching the world at large. I mentioned this event to Mr. Muse who grabbed the binoculars and declared, “It’s a hawk.” Taking the glasses for myself, I peered out into the landscape and watched the hawk watch the world. It wasn’t feeding, merely sitting and watching. I’ve never seen a hawk sit on the ground and observe the world before. They usually circle overhead or perch high up in the oaks or the lone elm that border the road and fields.
Initially, I felt concern. Was the hawk injured? Would we need to call a raptor rescue? How long should I observe the hawk, unmoving from it’s present location, before I made the call to get it assistance? But then, reining in my imagination, I reminded myself that chances were good the hawk wasn’t injured – it appeared to be a large, female Red Tailed Hawk and with where she was in the field, she most likely had taken prey of some variety and was resting.
I set the binoculars down, pulled the now-finished breakfast out of the oven and served it up before taking my seat once again at the table. I looked up from time to time and she was still in her spot, swiveling her head to-and-fro, observing. I looked away for a moment to cut myself a bite of food and when I looked up – she was gone. Her survey of the land, or her need of rest, over, she took flight. We both shared moments, perhaps, of quiet reflection this week. Today.
I enjoy those moments, and hours, I carve out to ponder and muse upon the world at large. They allow me to discover more about myself and even about others. I also appreciate the humor in those moments when I discover that a few seconds of looking away for one thing means that I missed something else. As the adage says, “Life happens when you’re not looking.”
Here is hoping that wherever you are, whatever direction you are looking in, that you appreciate the Life that is going on right before your eyes; if you look away – you’ll miss it.