This Morning's Manifestation

The February snows continued, until more than a foot lies on the ground. At the end of the drive, the piles reach above my head. Side streets are rutted iceways, the main streets lined with walls of white. I've shoveled paths to the birdfeeders, paths the squirrels use as superhighways for their pillaging, but as always I forgive them in this time of desperation. The birds find their share, as does my rabbit friend with the damaged leg.

The ice-cold sunshine has made the days deceptively beautiful, it's been harsh, but the days of winter are relentlessly moving toward their ending. Today will be above freezing for the first time in a long time, and the pure whites will melt to brown and gray slush. Which is sad. It's been nice looking out at that plush carpet, thinking of the spring that lies beneath, but enjoying the postcard snowglobe beauty. Beautiful so long as I have my place of warm refuge.

So winter wends its way to spring.

All things change, relentlessly, without our consent or even consultation. The best we can do, what we should do, the only thing we can do, is accept and adapt, and remember that the world, the universe, moves at its own pace, in its own time and direction. We are but mere bubbles of sentience, momentary musings of an ever-changing mystical deep consciousness. To be alive is a blessing, what came before and what follows must always be a mystery.

Tat Tvam Asi .