I began writing this Thursday, January 18th before I lost power a second time due to the storms in the Pacific NW. Instead of rewriting in the present tense, I’m going to leave the opening as is: “A cold spell is caressing the Pacific NW like hands just pulled from a freezer. I’m finding it difficult to string more than five words together as a malaise has settled into my bones. This Arctic Traveler didn’t followed the forecast and leave town on the scheduled flight yesterday and is lingering, unwelcome. The trees that thawed briefly are once again coated in a veneer of ice. A hummingbird returns time and time again to the rhododendron outside my window and sits for minutes, shivering. I can see the small heart beating, trying to maintain heat. Someone must be maintaining a feeder, for he does leave and return. Could I go out and cup him in my hands? Would that help?
Sojourning with Stillness: First Noticings
taking off: a long plane flight begins with bustle. announcements. checks and double-checks. first pass through by attendants. second pass. plane ascends above the clouds. engines thrum and soon it is white noise. comforting. time shifts. passengers settle. a hush descends. middle flight. some doze. some talk quietly…a low buzzing matching the engine. stretching. bathroom breaks. it is a stillness. a shared space of between. though we are all coming from and going too, we are suspended. even with the modern ability to connect in the sky, we are still disconnected. on some level we all know that. trust the pilots to pilot. trust our wisdom to let our spirits be still.
