Today at the small neighborhood tot lot, I noticed her sitting on the hill. She seemed curious and comfortable. No aggression. Just a complete contentment to watch us. A contentment at one point to curl up in a ball, occasionally stopping to look up. Even my son’s louder shrieks didn’t disturb her. I wondered at her stillness, her majesty. We named her “Rocket.” Well, my son named the beautiful fox Rocket Skyberg Dumptruck. You can see her there just on the hill above the sandbox. She was at peace there and my ever-charged son was a peace in this moment.
This is the moment I come to after busy weeks. A national election that kept my emotions high. A death of a dear person in our church community. And then a water leak in our home from a faulty hose. The turbulence of the last days makes Rocket’s loving lookout all the more stunning. I can look to the beautiful images that have found me since Halloween and reconnect with the call to joy at the origin of my writings. I share images here that have enlivened me this fall.
I pray that there are moments that have stopped you in your tracks–even in such a loaded time as this. I pray that you are gentle with yourself when you don’t have the energy to see, hear, or breathe into the beauty. For the moments when fear knocks to bring added stress to pandemic. May you know peace. May she take up residence on your playground. And look out with no expectation but to to be in the divine company of other beings.
The beginnings of my daughter’s leaf journal