Lessons in Nature

When the weather warms, I find myself gravitating towards grass.

Literally, lying on the earth (even after building a new stone patio, I still find this is my preference — to be on the earth).

When the temps are higher, I find myself offline more often. Away from screens. Absorbing the energy of the air, water, sun, and soil — the things that make me.

The things that make us.

I bring my daughter with me. We lay on grass together.

In nature, I find these lessons, and one day, she will find them too:

That birds sing, but also, bicker (I laughed observing birds fight over a feeder in my mom’s yard last week) — as beings, we are in a dance between song and dispute.

Flowers die, some earlier than others. I observed wilted peonies accommodated by other tight bulbs and blossoms in a bush, a reminder that we all go through phases and age.

(Perhaps one phase, or age, isn’t better than the other; maybe they’re all beautiful, depending on the viewer.)

Winds sway us; our ground supports us.

Trees look different, but are all beautiful in their own unique nature.

Leaves fall, only to bloom back brighter.

Branches extend, teaching us to go out on a limb.

We all need water.

As much as we try to capture, we cannot fully absorb every bit of richness surrounding us. I try to take it all in as a snapshot, then close my eyes to remember all the details, only to find that, once I open them again, I missed other pieces.

That’s okay though, we don’t have to remember every detail.

Nature’s got it figured out for us.