I have a Gratitude Bench in the meadow and there I sit,
letting whatever wants to come, come. . .
A song sparrow making notes in the
branches behind me,
the wingspan of a turkey vulture
soaring overhead,
A Ruby Crowned Kinglet, swift as a
fairy, comes to say hello. He
knows he is one of my favorites, and he knows where to find me. His diminutive size says nothing about his personality. With wings like a hummingbird, he
hovers about the goldenrod, though for bugs or seeds I could not tell.
There is no fear.
He simply searches out what he
knows he will find.
A fascinating movie he makes. The white ring around his eye, the streak
of red that makes him royalty.
He is a welcome visitor, gracing
the meadow only during migration.
He has a brethren, the Golden Crowned Kinglet, which I have yet to see. Perhaps if I wait long enough, I will
create one.
The bench always fills.
The bench always fills.
