Taking Time to Linger

Most days I take a two mile walk around our neighborhood.  It not only clears my mind, but it also grounds me and reminds me of all I have to be thankful for in this world.  I love to watch the Blue Herron hunting for fish with its neck elongated and ready to strike.  I love to watch the form of the geese as they land in our ponds so gracefully. I love how over the last couple months the trees were filled with green leaves to then a plethora of colors to now being bare and preparing for winter.  I love watching the squirrels burying their food for the season ahead. I love to see the rabbits playfully hopping to and fro. 

On occasion the wild transcends our world, as Sue found this past week as she met a coyote on the street during her walk, and as I watched a red-tailed hawk perched on a house dropping in and catching a small rodent lunch.  There is so much that nature is teaching us, but much of it gives us opportunities for awe.  

It reminds me of the words of Mary Oliver’s poem, Invitation: 

Oh, do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy 

and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles 

for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest, 

or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? 

Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude — 

believe us, they say, it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world. I beg of you, do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance. 

It could mean something. It could mean everything. 

It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.

As we prepare for this season of gratitude, join me in taking time to linger for just a while to see the wild around us, to learn from it, and to proclaim our thanks to God for all of creation!