Double Yolk

All the birds are back and they are making it known.

I’m sitting outside with River. It’s a warm day, at least compared to what the weather’s been like lately. I’m eating a clementine that’s a bit too soft and drinking a cup of tea that’s only half full because I didn’t feel like filling up the kettle any more.

I like these days when I can be present in the world without taking part in it. Where I can just listen to the sounds of the birds, and notice how the warm air clings to your skin, and watch the wind flit through the bushes, and smell the dew on the grass and that unique but indescribable spring fragrance.

I think of that Mary Oliver quote. “So this is the world. I’m not in it. It is beautiful.”

Sitting out here like this reminds me of how simple it all is. It is one of the few times where my worries and dreams and all don’t feel too much.

I watch the birds zip from tree to tree. I watch the blades of grass dance in the wind. And I feel understood in a way I don’t usually feel.

I never know what to do or what to say, who to say it to or how to dress or what to listen to, or really, how to just, be. I like times when I am out here because I finally don’t feel the need to figure any of it out. It’s like Mary said, to learn something by being nothing.