This morning's walk almost didn't get more than a few steps out the door. I started out walking, tripped and twisted my ankle. Thoughts of turning back immediately flooded into my brain, but a calmer part of me said to keep walking gently and see -- sure enough, within a couple of minutes I was walking freely and able to take in the beautiful, cool spring morning.
I spotted my 6:18 bellweather train just visible across a field recently turned over for spring planting. A few rabbits hopped down long driveways, while all kinds of birds announced various bits of news in their world, most of which probably had to do with mating, it being spring and all.
I had just reached the turn around point in this walk when I came to an opening into those plowed fields. In the beautiful dawn sunlight, two deer dashed away from me, kicking up dust and ground moisture as they moved away. Each jumping step made a big puff of floating sparkle in that light. What a grace note!
Back closer to home, I had to cross one busy road, crowded with the Trade Parade of workers' trucks and cars, hurrying to hundreds of home renovations and construction sites. Despite the ongoing building, there's still a fair amount of woods and ponds and meadows in this area of eastern Long Island, home to uncounted numbers of birds, insects, smaller and larger animals, including those deer.
Less familiar to me and seeming more out of place in this past week has been a solitary wild turkey, hanging around the small downtown area of our hamlet, Water Mill. He's been poking about the village green and dodging traffic as he crossed an even busier highway than the road I negotiated this morning. So far, he's made it with only a few close calls. I spotted one of his brother birds up island who had an unfortunate encounter with a fast car and was sitting stunned by the side of the highway facing a most uncertain future.
In my busy life, it's all too easy to go through life with blinders on, oblivious to the wonders of life in front of us every day. Bugs, mice, raccoons, deer, turkeys and even twisted ankles are small reminders to me to pay attention and pause to take it all in. I can be all rattled and separate, or occasionally, at least, quiet and connected in this life we share.
Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, invited us to see and do all of life, Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam, to the greater glory of God. That's a good invitation.
