The lingering taste of cream cheese and jelly bagel washed back with a hot flush of Wild Berry Zinger and the day comes alive again. An hour ago I wiped a mountain of sleep dust from my eyes as I got up to sit, but this morning’s meditation was – shall we say – restful. The wakefulness is still coming: gentle waves of life lapping at the shore in an incoming tide.
It seems quiet this morning, as though the birds are sleeping in. The latening morning sun reaches over the trees telling a tale of another warm day and nature prepares by finding a shady spot in which to rest. A fly buzz somewhere, or was that an added tone to the ring in my ears? That is the loudest sound right now: the soft-sharp ring that becomes imperceptible the moment noise enters my existence.
The dust dances, settling in the sunlight, and my nose wonders how much passes through it unnoticed. I wave my arm through it to watch it swirl. L’s interpretation of a four-legged beast, head shaking, does more to move it, though. And then, like dust, she settles and quietude once again prevails.
Limited movement. The sluggishness of summer.